Harry Potter and the Gathering Storm
by Paffy
Summary: Unfinished Sequel. It's Harry's sixth year and he has more to worry about than just school. There's the rebirth of Voldemort, Death Eaters on the loose, and one of his best friends is in serious trouble. How far will his involvement in the Order take him?
1. Two Households

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Two households, both alike in dignity, 

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In magical Hogwarts, where we lay our scene,

  
From aged grudge break to new mutiny,

  
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

  
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes,

  
A pair of star-cross'd lovers lived their life;

  
Whole misadventured piteous overthrows

  
Doth with their union bury their keepers' strife.

  
The winding passage of their long-mark'd love,

  
And the continuance of their keepers' rage,

  
Which, but their own end, nought could remove,

  
Is now the few hours' traffic of our screen;

  
The which if you with patient eyes attend,

  
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.


	2. Princetown, South Dartmoor

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AN/ Hey Everyone! Told you I'd be back ASAP with the first chapter of the SEQUEL to Harry Potter and Firelight's Heir. (you must read that first!)

SO…Just to recap, last time we saw our hero's (lol, this sounds like a marvel comic avert) Catalina was being whisked away to St Mungo's at the end of her trial pronouncing her 'not guilty' of being a death Eater…This takes place a few months later!

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Dedication: To ALL my readers and reviewers from my last story, special hi to MARE who spent a whole day reading it from beginning to end! Hope your less stiff now lol! As well as Mabwenya, Archie and G!

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Disclaimer: fanFICTION…the clues are in the title! Not JK, Not mine…sadly. Could do with being the richest woman in England hehehe.

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~*~*~ Chapter One ~*~*~

Princetown, South Dartmoor

Harry was sat on an uncomfortable chair belonging to a small bus that was trundling through the desolate, rain-soaked moors. It was a muggle bus and he was sat in his muggle clothes alone, on his way to his accommodation for the summer holiday. The house would belong to one Remus Lupin, Harry's old Defence against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry. Harry had not received a lesson from 'Professor Lupin' for three years now, but this was to be his home for the next few months until the start of term again on the first of September.

There had been huge debate about where Harry would be able to stay during the summer term, his closest relations – the Dursleys, were murdered the previous summer and as such had left Harry homeless. He would usually have stayed with the Weasley's, his best friend Ron's family, but at the end of his fifth year at school, something terrible had happened which eventually meant that staying there was no longer possible.

Harry belonged to a secret organisation of 100 of the most powerful witches and wizards in the country known as the Order of the Phoenix, and their combined force had launched an attack on Riddle Manor, where Voldemort and his followers were massing troops in preparation for a huge attack. The ambush should have been simple but a spy in their midst had informed Voldemort of their impending attack. The Order themselves were ambushed in the Manor and barely escaped.

The traitor had turned out to be none other than Catalina Firelight, a new girl to Hogwarts at the beginning of Harry's fifth year, whom he and his best friends had formed a close relationship with. Or so it had seemed, but eventually the truth came out and Harry discovered she had been held under the Imperious curse, unable to control her own actions. They had barely got away, and at the last moment Catalina had been caught by an Order member and sent directly to a cell in Azkabam by portkey.

Harry had woken up in the hospital wing of Hogwarts to find out that not only had Catalina been caught and wrongly accused of all the things she did whilst under the spell, that also many of the Order members had died or gone missing. Percy Weasley was among the list of people who had not been found, and search party's were still be sent out everyday by Bill and Charlie Weasley almost a month after he'd gone – although everyone knew it was hopeless the family had not yet given up hope. Mr Weasley had also been injured and had been transferred to St Mungo's hospital, where he was steadily getting better, although the long term damage the mystery curse had inflicted on him was still not yet known.

And that basically was the reason he was here, Mrs Weasley had more than enough on her plate at the moment with her husband in hospital and the uncertainty over the fate of Percy without having to look after Harry who seemed to attract trouble like a magnet. He had asked to stay at Hogwarts but it had been impossible to arrange, and even asked if he could rent a room at The Three Broomsticks but it had also been dismissed as being too unsafe. 

But the solution had come thanks to one of the happiest moments of Harry's life – The trial of Peter 'Wormtail' Pettigrew. Harry's godfather Sirius had been falsely accused of a crime his fathers best friend had committed and had been sentenced to life in Azkabam until he escaped in Harry's third year. During the Riddle Manor Attack, Hermione had managed to capture Pettigrew in his animagus form of a rat, which had allowed Sirius to plead his case in front of the Council of Magical Law, which Harry was uncomfortably familiar with now. 

Sirius was found not guilty of the crimes he had been committed for, and was pardoned, allowing him to become a free man for the first time in 15 years. The moment the sentence had been overturned had been one of the best Harry could remember, and all Sirius's friends and old classmates had thrown a huge party in his honour and he was now famous across the country – and not for being a murderer. He had been given a huge amount of money in compensation from the Ministry of Magic, but as he told _Witch Weekly _"The thing that gave me the most joy was knowing that justice has been served and the person responsible for the death of my two closest friends has finally been punished."

Peter had received thirteen life sentences in Azkabam prison, who was now under the guard of Ministry officials after the Dementors had turned to Voldemorts side and had set free the prisoners the night of the Orders Attack. As such the streets were not longer safe and the people of the Wizarding community were living under a shadow of fear, although Voldemort and his closest followers were supposedly abroad gathering the forces Charles Firelight had been gathering for 14 years during his 'world trip'. 

And that was what Harry couldn't comprehend. How Charles Firelight – famous Auror, pure blooded family, heir of Gryffindor - could have turned so evil, how he could have becomes Voldemorts right-hand man under the eyes of everyone but seen by none. And as usual Harry's thoughts returned to Catalina, the last time he'd seen her she was lying on the floor of the Council of Magical Law, not moving or breathing after she had discovered she was not guilty of the crimes she was imprisoned for as well. It still hurt, and Harry had lived the last month at Hogwarts in constant fear and worry about her. 

She was alive – but only just. 

She had been in a deep coma similar to Arthur Weasley's for half a month and Harry had waited for news every day for news that she had woken up. He had to take his OWL's a week before he left the school although he received a special dispensation from Dumbledore, but he, Ron and Hermione felt it was the best way to get back into the routine, to get some kind of 'normalcy' in their life. They had been given special allowances due to their circumstances, but had found that they managed to do quite well anyway, with top marks in Defence classes, without the special marking system. 

Every day he had waited for news, and it had come the morning of his potions exam. He had been in such a good mood he had breezed through his exam without taking any notice of what he was doing. He had barely scraped an OWL in it, despite the marking scheme, to the undying satisfaction of Snape. He had been to see Dumbledore that day and he had confirmed the news that she had indeed woken up, but was very ill and it would be some time before he could see her.

So he had spent the last few weeks at Hogwarts, where the mood had greatly changed, mirroring the sombre time he had spent there when the Chamber of Secrets had been opened. Everyone now knew of Voldemorts definite rebirth as well as the escaped Death Eaters of Azkabam. They also knew of Harry, Ron and Hermione's roles in the Attack, and Daily Prophet reporters had been less than secret with the details of the attack. The entire student body now knew what had happened between Harry, Catalina and Firelight – and they were all curious to know more. They'd all refused to speak, and people had begun to make up their own stories, that were less than pleasant, especially the ones concerning Catalina – who they all still believed to be guilty. 

The bus Harry was sitting in gave an unpleasant lurch as they went across a pothole, bringing Harry suddenly out of his thoughts. He looked around noticing with a grimace that the heavy black clouds above were now emptying their contents on the lonely moors, making the whole place look bleaker and more deserted than before. Their was no one else on the bus save for an elderly lady who kept falling asleep before jerking her head up again every few seconds and a young boy Harry's age with headphones on that were blaring out some kind of rock music. 

Remus's house was in the middle of nowhere, high on the moors of South West England, and Harry had so far taken one train and four buses to get to where he was now. He'd thought this very strange, that he was allowed to do this on his own, but Dumbledore had assured him he would be ok, Voldemorts supporters were not going to be expecting him to take the 83A bus to Princetown, South Dartmoor - especially on the day magical families everywhere were taking their children home for the holidays.

With a sudden lurching halt the bus stopped at a small shelter on the road to nowhere, and Harry squinted at the fading writing at the top of the metal sign – stop A79, this was his. He quickly stood up and grabbed his trunk heaving it bumping and bouncing along the aisle while the old lady muttered at him and the bus driver gave him evil glares in the mirror. He caused himself several minor injuries trying to get off the bus with no assistance from any of the passengers. He emerged into the biting wind and was about to turn and say thank you to the bus driver when the doors snapped shut and it sped off, splattering water from road all over his ill-fitting muggle jeans and sweater.

"Thanks a lot," muttered Harry sarcastically, and stared around him.

The scenery would have been breathtaking if he hadn't been feeling so wet, cold and miserable. All around him was rolling hills covered in heather and gorse, with sheep and cows dotted about, as well as wild Dartmoor ponies that were walking across the road towards him. He patted them warily in case they suddenly lashed out and gazed at his watch impatiently, Remus should have been here to meet him 10 minutes ago. The ponies wandered off when they realised Harry had no food to offer and he sat down on his trunk and waited, wondering slightly if he'd got the wrong stop. 

He let his attention wander as he thought back to the end of the school year, it had been traumatic to say the least. Ron and the rest of the Weasley's were devastated by Percy's disappearance and Mr Weasley's injury, and Harry had never seen his best friend so down. Hermione was also devastated by the turn of events, and both of them were shocked and frightened by what had happened to Catalina from the time she disappeared to her trial and subsequent hospitalisation. He felt like he'd been inside some kind of bubble – completely blocking out the world round him. To be honest he couldn't remember the past few months, being stuck inside his own head of worried and thoughts about Catalina.

He was wondering how long he was going to have to wait until he could see her again, when there was a huge explosion down the road. Harry gave a violent start and with Quidditch-gained reflexes he rolled off the back of his trunk and hid behind it, wand already held out in front of him. The explosion came again and Harry ducked behind his trunk again. After a few tense seconds he looked up and found the source of noise – a small battered VW Beetle with peeling green paint that was trundling across the hills towards him.

The car gave another huge explosion and Harry involuntarily ducked again and it shuddered to a halt in front of him. With the window wipers screaming in protest at the movement, and a wildly clanking engine, the window was drawn down half way before it jammed. Two hands came out of nowhere and pushed it the rest of the way. A familiar head poked out and gave Harry a mild kind of smile.

"You want a lift stranger?" he yelled above the din and Harry broke out into an excited smile.

He climbed to his feet and brushed the mud off of his jeans with as much dignity as he could muster while Remus laughed at him from the driver's seat. He walked to the window and bent down and looked through with a smirk.

"I'm look for somewhere called 'The Gatehouse', some guy was supposed to pick me up and take me there, but the idiot hasn't showed up," said Harry.

"Shut up and get in," said Remus, smiling at the sopping wet Harry.

After a few minutes of frantic tugging, prising with a screwdriver and angry yet furtive hexes shot through his wand, Remus managed to open up the tiny boot and deposit Harry's trunk inside it, before crawling back into the driver's seat. Harry climbed into the passenger's seat, had to duck slightly because of the roof and after a few false starts, the engine spluttered to life.

"Where did you get this from?" asked Harry, looking around the tiny car with a mixture of awe and amusement.

"A few days ago, got a very good deal on it," said Remus with a sly wink in Harry's direction, "thought we'd need a bit of transportation to get us around while your staying here."

"It's…cool," said Harry, struggling to find the right word to describe the car whose seats vibrated violently with the engine and backfired every few meters, causing the horses and sheep to bolt in panic.

"Sirius thinks it's a heap of junk mind," said Remus with mock-hurt, "fancies himself a bit of a car expert."

He rolled his eyes, and pulled on the steering wheel desperately as he attempted to take a corner, which he did – on two wheels.

"He used to drive me and James _mad _with his incessant drone about cars and motorbikes – how his dad was going to buy him one if he got his NEWT's, how he was going to make us all jealous and how the girls where going to drool over him a his 'baby' as he called it," reminisced Remus fondly.

Harry grinned, it seemed like something Sirius would do, and he couldn't wait to see his godfather again. The last time he'd seen him was at the celebration party as he'd had many interviews and things to sort out after his pardon. 

"Is he going to be at the Gatehouse?" asked Harry as casually as possible watching the scenery, rain and sheep flash past the speedy little cars window.

Remus gave a knowing smile as he concentrated on the road in front as they drove into the first sign of life Harry had seen since he entered the moors. Harry looked around, it was only a small village with a pub, a post office, a bakery, a butchers, a few take-aways, video rental shop and a few other gift shops for the tourists. It looked liked a pleasant place and Harry could see a few kids congregating on the green in front of a church, they were playing football and shouting to one another excitedly. Harry watched them in fascination, even craning his neck behind to see a short kid score and be pulled to the ground in a heap by the other players. Harry suddenly found himself wishing desperately he could just be a normal teenager, wanting to worry about nothing more than football, girls and the latest rock band. 

"Maybe you could go and join in one day, they're all off school now," said Remus with a kind smile towards Harry, "and no, Sirius isn't going to be here tonight, he's staying with friends in Wales, he'll be back the day after tomorrow."

Harry swallowed his disappointment and didn't comment on the football, he had better things to do and think about than that at the moment. He wondered how to approach the next subject and decided to just bite the bullet and ask.

"Er Remus? I was wondering if one day maybe you could, you know, take me to St Mungo's maybe?" he asked hopefully, flinching at the expected answer – Remus was on less than friendly terms with Catalina's father – even if he wasn't in the picture now.

"Of course I can Harry," replied in an easy tone as if he'd asked for nothing more than an ice cream, "Once we get the all clear from the hospital."

Harry nodded hastily and looked out the window, noticing with a start they were already back into moorland. The village had been smaller and more isolated than he thought. 

"That was Princetown we just drove through, and my house," he said wrenching the steering wheel into a small overgrown trackway, "is just down here."

The house was actually around another mile down the bumpy track in which the car had to stop twice, first to pick up the exhaust pipe which had fell off with a clatter, and the second to pick up a hubcap which had rolled into a hedge. With an emergency stop and a shuddering engine, the car finally parked in front of a small thatched cottage, which mirrored a pair of Remus's robe – looking patched and rundown.

Harry lifted his trunk and Remus gave the car one last kick before he walked towards the house. He pulled out his wand, muttered a few choice words before pulling out a brace of keys from his pocket. After a few seconds of scrambling he opened the door and strode through. Harry picked up his trunk in time to see Remus dash inside, hearing the telephone ringing. He walked through the doorway, and dropped his trunk to the floor, feeling quite awkward. He looked around, the whole house had a feeling of being slightly run-down and unkempt, yet it also felt homely, like the Burrow almost. Lupin was talking on the phone at the foot of the stairs and Harry was grinning as his weary voice reached his ears.

"Yes he's here Padfoot" he said, "Yes, he's fine,"

There was a quick babble of garbled speech and Harry smirked as Remus rolled his eyes expressively. 

"He is nearly 16, I'm sure he can handle a bus ride,"

More quick speech and Remus sighed heavily, "Yes, yes fine, goodbye Padfoot." he said before slamming the phone down. 

Remus walked down the small hallway and Harry shifted slightly. Remus either pretended not to or didn't notice Harry's discomfort and gave him a kind smile. 

"Ok, your room is just upstairs…sorry the place is in a bit of a mess I'm in the process of moving in," he said.

"Oh, how long have you been here then?" asked Harry politely.

"About four years," he said mildly.

Harry gave a small smile and followed Lupin up the small staircase, whose steps where littered with books and sheaves of parchment. The walls held many photographs, which were harder to date as the robes stayed the same and the scenery didn't really change. He saw many glimpses of Sirius and his own father as well as Peter and made slow progress as he looked at them all. He knew Remus had been a big contributor of photos in his album Hagrid gave him and he could see why he didn't miss them now – he had hundreds. There were only three rooms upstairs, Remus's bedroom, a bathroom and a study. Harry was led to the study, which had been hastily converted into a bedroom, by means of pushing every other piece of furniture into the other corner.

"Sorry it's not much," said Remus with an almost embarrassed smile.

Harry who had been used to living in a cupboard for eleven years thought this room was far from 'not much' and told Remus so.

"I'll leave you to unpack then, I guess you're hungry," said Remus, disappearing down the stairs silently.

Harry sat on the bed and looked around glumly. He knew it'd be a great holiday being with his dads two best friends, but he couldn't help but feel depressed at his situation. Everything was so much more serious now, what with Percy, Catalina and Mr Weasley and he couldn't help but feel slightly useless. 

He gave a heavy sigh and looked around his room more closely. The bed was comfy, and covered in plain blue sheets, and there was a chest of drawers next to it, waiting expectantly to be filled. These walls were again covered in photos, and Harry didn't recognise any of the people in most of them. He located what he thought were Remus's parents, as well as various younger images of some of the people from the Order Harry knew by face but not name. 

He came across a lot of pictures of the Four Marauders, and Harry spent a long time studying them closely. Most of them were taken by Remus it seemed and contained Sirius and James, both in a variety of ridiculous poses, a long with Harry's own mother and some of her friends. Harry looked at these more closely, he didn't really know much about his mother or her friends but the photos gave little clues away. It surprised Harry that many of them were muggle and didn't move, although there were magical ones dotted around.

He finally tore his eyes away and began to unpack the small amount of clothes and possessions he had. Most of them were schoolbooks or his own books to read and he pulled out a few photos of his own from the bottom of the trunk. The first was a copy of Ron and Hermione at the Yule Ball who were taking it in turns to shout at, and then joke with each other and the second was Harry and Catalina's own Ball photo. Harry sighed and pulled it up to his face closely, running a finger across the face of the laughing, smiling Catalina. It had been a long time since he'd seen her look like that. He sighed again heavily, and flipped to the next photo – the four of them sitting on the Gryffindor Tower sofa, with the girls both laughing hysterically as Ron and Harry tickled them senseless. It had been a long time since they'd all been together like that as well.

"Harry! You want some dinner?" came Remus's voice from downstairs. 

"Yeah sure!" shouted Harry, "I'm just coming!"

He hastily shoved the rest of his things into the drawers, slamming them shut before looking around. He noticed a pot of pins on the desk, and pulled out three. He shuffled across his bed and tacked the photos lightly to the wall, trying to avoid making to big a hole. He stepped back and admired his work, nodded with satisfaction and hurried downstairs.

He looked around the hallway, and located the kitchen from Remus's banging around. He let himself in and his eyes met a small yet cosy kitchen equipped with all muggle technology, then the most amusing sight; his ex-professor wearing a stripy apron and oven mitts, nodding towards a small table. As with everything else in Lupin's house it was piled high with paper, which Remus pushed to the floor without a care. Harry smiled and sat down, as a boiling hot baking tray was placed in front of him with slightly burnt pizza sitting in the middle. 

Remus then got a pair of scissors and roughly cut the pizza into 8 more or less equal slices and handed Harry a plate.

"Dig in," he commanded happily and Harry merely watched open-mouthed as Remus helped himself to a few slices, leaned back onto two legs of his chair and hummed a jaunty tune. 

This was not exactly how he expected a professor – ex or not – to live or eat. He helped himself to a slice and ate in silence, discreetly picking the black bits off the top of the pizza and putting them on his plate.

"This is how me and Sirius always eat," he said by ways of an explanation and Harry smiled politely, "He tasted junkfood once when we sneaked out of Diagon Alley and has been addicted ever since."

"Sounds like him," commented Harry dryly. 

"Well…how do you like Devon?" asked Remus after a while, struggling to engage the silent Harry in conversation. 

"Its nice, very peaceful – that village was the first one I'd seen for ages." 

"Yes, it tends to be like that around here," said Remus, also pulling off a black unidentifiable lump, "you can go down to the village whenever you like if you want."

"I can?" asked Harry blankly, "How come?"

"Like you said, it's very peaceful and quiet around here, your safe as houses. Not many people know I'm here, and even less people know you are," explained Remus, "So you've basically got a free rein."

"Oh…great," said Harry blankly, leaning back on his own chair.

He had never had a 'free rein' in his life before, unless you counted the few magical weeks he'd spent living at the Leaky Cauldron. And now he was here with his godfather and the best teachers he'd ever had, in somewhere where nowhere basically knew where he was, and he was allowed to _go out_. He smiled at Remus who looked happy he'd finally got some reaction from Harry. 

"Mind you," he said pointing a piece of congealing pizza at Harry, "I don't know if Sirius will let you, he mothers you too much."

Harry laughed out loud to this and nodded with vehement agreement.

"Well might as well take you for a little guided tour around," said Remus getting up and leading Harry out to the small garden. 

It was much like the garden at the Burrow, and the exact opposite to the garden he'd had at Privet Drive. There were weeds everywhere, grass up to his ankles, and all around were the remnants of lawnmowers, bikes and other things that had met their end in the mechanical graveyard.

"I like to call this my wildlife garden," said Remus with a expansive wave to the stone walled garden, "watch out in the deeper areas of grass over there – I had an escapee a few weeks ago and believe him to be hiding out."

"Escapee?" asked Harry nervously, looking down at his ankles at once.

"I have a small collection of animals and what not, most of them are harmless" explained Remus pointing to a large shed in the corner which looked out of place with the rest of the area – it was huge, clean and well kept. 

Remus gave his garden the nod of approval and wandered back into the house through the wooden door, passing through the disorderly kitchen and into the hallway. There was only one other room on the bottom floor and it doubled up as a living room/study. Again the walls were covered in photos, and the free carpet space was taken up by parchment and book cases that were crammed full with ancient and dusty looking texts. 

"That's where Sirius sleeps," said Remus with a sly wink, pointing to a dog basket next to the fire.

Harry did laugh out loud to this, trying to imagine his godfather sleeping in a small basket, but after you've seen him eat rats, there's not really much that'll surprise you.

"Television, WWN, books, chess," said Remus pointing to each, "I'm sure you can keep yourself amused."

Harry looked around almost excitedly, he had a feeling he was almost going to enjoy this holiday, and seated himself on the small sofa on the command of Remus, who stood and watched him for a few seconds. Harry drummed his fingers on his knees and Remus gave a sigh and handed him a few controls. 

"Television zappa," he said, flicking on the machine, which buzzed to life a few moments later, "I recommend BBC1 at this time of night, though I'm sure you've watched plenty of television in your time."

Harry nodded and Remus walked out of the room, and Harry enjoyed having the controls to himself for a few minutes and channel surfed through the four channels. It was dark outside now and the television wasn't as good as Harry hoped; a soap opera, a nature programme, a gameshow and the news. 

He flicked the television off, and looked around the room looking for something to do. Remus entered a few minutes later carrying a large stack of parchments and books and dumped them onto the floor next to his table. He promptly sat down and began to study, not moving for some minutes.

Harry was feeling bored, he didn't want to disturb Remus at his work and left he WWN and television silent and ran and finger across the spines of the books. They were fascinating, even towards a non-book lover like himself, what Hermione wouldn't give for 10 minutes in this room. They were all related to the Dark Arts or Magical creatures and Harry pulled one plain looking book down from the top shelf. 

It was only small, and bound in fading red leather and the peeling gold letters on the front proclaimed it to be _Hogwarts 1979_. He flipped it open and realised it was another photo album, crammed full of photos from his fathers last year at school. Harry was absolutely engrossed in the book, studying each photo carefully and trying to put down names to every face. He was also strangely pleased to see his mom and dad standing in various romantic poses, laughing and joking with each other. 

On the back of every photo Remus's neat script explained the exact date each photo was taken, where, who it contained and the background story. He couldn't believe that in just over three years time the smiling couple in the photo would both be dead. He suddenly felt a little sick of the past and slammed the book louder than he meant to, causing Remus's to look up curiously.

"Bored?" he asked mildly.

"No, not really. What are you doing?" Harry asked, trying to crane his neck to see what was on the paper.

"Studying," replied Remus simply, "I have my auror's test at the end of the holiday."

"Really?" asked Harry in amazement, "I didn't know you were training to be an auror!"

"Well I nearly completed my two years training at the school with James and Sirius, before I was thrown out," at this point Harry shifted uncomfortably, "and since the ministry changed their rules on werewolves I decided I ought to finish what I started."

"Wow," said Harry in awe, staring at Remus clearly impressed, "So you just have to take one test and you're through?"

"Two – a practical and a theory test," he said, flipping through his book as he spoke.

"Cool…" said Harry, sensing Remus had important work to do, "I better go to bed, goodnight Remus."

"Hmm, goodnight Harry," replied Remus in a far off voice.

Harry walked up the dark staircase, and dropped onto his bed once he reached his room. He turned over and looked at his photos on his wall sadly. He was expecting Hedwig to return with a letter from Dumbledore, that would hopefully give him a date to go and see Catalina in hospital, and as soon as she was back he'd send her to Ron to see if there was any news. He jumped up and got changed and slipped between the sheets, and looked at Catalina again, before flicking off the light switch.

It was a very uncomfortable and nightmare plagued sleep he eventually fell into, that didn't last long as he was awake before the sun rose across the rain soaked moors.


	3. Hell's Angel

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~*~*~ Chapter Two ~*~*~

Hells Angel

The next day the weather had improved and Harry came down the stairs to find Remus studying at his table again. He had a plate of toast next to him and stacks of old newspapers at his side, which he was studying intently. Harry slid into the seat opposite and looked out of the window briefly – no Hedwig.

"There's cereals in the cupboard, or toast if you like – help yourself," said Remus distractedly.

Harry merely nodded and set to work pouring himself some cereal, sitting back down opposite his ex-professor and eating in silence. He was thinking about Catalina, his dreams had been the ordinary kind, yet they made him more frightened than his glimpses into Voldemorts doings. He was worried that when she was awake and well enough to go home, that she wouldn't be the same person. A lot of people would go through what she's been through and merely break down, and although Harry knew she was strong, he didn't know if she was strong enough to cope with something like this. The sheer shock of her father's betrayal could have been enough, let alone the things he and his colleagues made her do.

He didn't know what she'd be like, would she be depressed, would she be able to cope, would she go back to Hogwarts? That was one of Harry's secret fears, what if she never went back, what if her and her mother left the country again? It was true she'd never spent more than one year in the same country, what if she didn't want to break the tradition. What with the attention the press was giving her and her fathers story, and the reputation she'd secured at Hogwarts and within the general community he wouldn't be surprised if she didn't want to go back to Hogwarts – he certainly wouldn't.

But she wasn't well enough to know about that yet, the last thing she probably remembered was her trial, and even that must be a blur after the condition she was in. Harry wondered if she knew what had happened to her at all in the last few months. 

"Harry?" came Remus voice, derailing Harry's train of thought. 

"Er sorry, what did you say?" asked Harry apologetically.

Remus gave a small chuckle, "I just wanted to know if you'd like to do anything today, Plymouth's about 30 miles from here we could visit if you want?"

"Nah, it ok. You do your work. I've been given loads of homework to do anyway," said Harry with a grimace.

"The first day of the holidays and you're doing homework?" asked Remus in mock-horror. 

Harry gave a shrug and got back to his breakfast, which was now slightly soggy while Remus tried a few more times to engage Harry in conversation, all the time getting only short answers or shrugs. In the end he gave up and went back to his papers. After a while Harry tried to crane his neck to see what Remus was reading and after a few minutes of this Remus raised his eyes to him questioningly. Harry looked away sheepishly and pretended to be studying his breakfast while Remus chuckled.

"It ok Harry," he laughed, "I'm not going to shout at you for being curious."

Harry gave an embarrassed shrug and looked back to his papers, "What are you doing?"

"Well, for my exam, you have to be clued up on past auror's, history, cases, criminals – the lot. The best source of information for that is the newspapers believe it or not, theirs shockingly little actual accounts of the last war against Voldemort."

Harry nodded with interest and Remus handed him a slightly faded copy of the Daily Prophet. The whole front page was taken up by a large headline and article, with a small moving photo of none-other than Mad-Eye Moody, the real one anyway. 

"This one I remember well, Moody and some other auror's caught and duelled with Evan Rosier. He was eventually killed. It made headlines because it was the first Death Eater an auror had actually killed with their new power of being able to use any charm – even unforgivables, and kill rather than capture."

Harry nodded mutely, he already knew the name – he'd heard it in Dumbledore's Pensieve memory of the Council of Magical Law trial of Karkaroff. But it was strange to see the perception of the event from the day after it happened, and was stunned at the shockingly blunt way the article was written – nothing like what you'd see printed in _The Times_. 

Remus had a large stack of them, all dating to the downfall of Voldemort, cataloguing the capture of almost every Death Eater. He dropped them onto the place mat in front of Harry, telling him each name between papers.

"Antonin Dolohov, Michael Travers, Andre Mulciber, the Lestranges, Augustus Rockwood and Sabrina Wilkes – and they were only the ones that were sentenced or killed," said Remus heavily, "Most of them got away - Avery, Nott, Goyle, Crabbe, Malfoy, Macnair, Pettigrew...the list goes on."

Harry nodded slowly, he knew all of those names already, he'd heard them around – mainly from Sirius when he, Ron and Hermione had visited him in the caves near Hogsmeade in his fourth year. It was strange to be placing the names to the faces of the people the paper depicted however, and Harry found himself shuddering at the shady characters – wondering how many of them he'd faced while in the Riddle Manor Attack. 

"Of course, most of those imprisoned have been freed now by the Dementors, when they turned. So along with all those still at large we've got to look out for Dolohov, Travers, Mulciber, Rockwood and the Lestranges in particular – and that's just a few of them."

"Fudge should have known that would happen," said Harry bitterly, "Dumbledore warned him after the third task that it would, and he ignored him."

"And he's paying for it now," said Remus, dropping his copy of today's Daily Prophet in front of Harry, "The ministry are in a mess, Fudge is hanging in by the skin of his teeth – mark my words, the ministry is either going to get rid of him or its going to collapse from within."

"Do you reckon they would really throw him out?" asked Harry looking at the moving picture of a flustered looking minister who was being heckled by a crowd of reporters. 

"Undoubtedly. I'm surprised he's lasted this long, he's just too weak a leader to take us into war. He won't last the next few weeks."

"Who will they get to replace him?" asked Harry curiously, flipping through the newspaper, seeing every single page covered with more murmurings of discontent towards the minister. 

"No one is stepping forward for the job unsurprisingly. I have a few candidates in my head, but if no one comes forward an emergency council will be set up consisting of the heads of each magical department," said Remus, reminding Harry of his old professor's way of teaching strongly.

"And who do you think should do it? Dumbledore?" asked Harry curiously.

"Dumbledore would never leave Hogwarts. No, I think our trust is going to have to be placed most likely in Joseph Savoir."

"Who's he?"

"You've met him before, he is the Supreme Judge in the Council of Magical Law, he conducted Catalina's trial," said Remus, hesitating slightly at bringing up the subject.

Harry nodded thoughtfully as his memory refreshed itself. He was a tall man, with a prominent chin and strong jaw line. From what Harry could remember he was an intimidating figure, although he possessed a kindness and sympathy that did not mirror his image. Harry thought for a while, the way he had dealt with the case was very well, he didn't seem shocked or surprised by the truth, and seemed to rely solely on facts. Harry thought him a good candidate and nodded thoughtfully towards Remus.

"Yes…I remember him. Is he likely to step forward?"

"I'm not sure. I remember him from my Hogwarts days, he was quite a few years above us, but he was a very impressive figure even then – comes from the Dumbledore school of thought if you know what I mean. He's a very wise figure," said Remus mindfully, "He's well respected, has a high place in the ministry and knows what to expect, he took over Barty Crouch when he was shunted into International Magical Co-operation."

Harry gave this thoughtful consideration. When Remus said _Dumbledore school of thought _he knew what he meant, he was a 'second chance' kind of person, he looked hard at the evidence, used his own feelings as well. If Harry had ever stopped and thought about it at the time he gave Catalina a very fair trial in light of the evidence against her. 

After a few moments of thoughtful consideration Harry once again lapsed into silence and Remus knew he'd slipped into his own thoughts. They continued to eat breakfast in silence, until Harry startled Remus by speaking again.

"I wouldn't like to have their job, whoever it's going to be."

*

Before Harry knew what was happening it was nearly time for Sirius to return to the Gatehouse, and Harry was almost excited. He had spent the last day and a half doing homework, reading the various books in Remus's house and searching the back garden for the illusive 'escapee'.

Remus didn't look the slightest bit bothered that Sirius was coming, but Harry had been restless all day, and had tidied his room (or Remus's half of the room anyway) and discreetly tidied some of Remus's parchments away, although he didn't want to see him doing it. And now both Harry and Remus were waiting patiently in the living room, fire roaring expectantly. 

Remus was actually still studying, and Harry forgot all pretence of doing something, and sat staring at the fire instead. Yet again his thoughts had wandered back to what was happening in the outside world. He wondered if Mr Weasley was getting better, whether they'd had any news about Percy, whether Dumbledore had heard from St Mungo's yet and whether Catalina had made any improvement. 

Five 'o' clock rolled by and there was no sign of Sirius, and Harry began to fidget uncomfortably – maybe something had happened, maybe he'd been caught by one of the infamous Azkabam inmates. As these thoughts were crossing Harry's troubled mind his ears barely even registered the dull roar in the background, although Remus did. He looked up with a frown and this drew Harry's attention. He got up and looked out of the window, and Harry followed suit.

"I don't believe it," said Remus in amazement.

"What is it?" asked Harry curiously, seeing nothing in Remus's drive except the Beetle and a few broken bikes and machinery. 

"It looks like Sirius has arrived," he said dryly.

At that moment a sleek black motorcycle rounded the corner and skidded into the drive spraying gravel everywhere. A figure clad in black leather was straddling the roaring machine, and Harry's mouthed gaped open in surprise. The engine was suddenly killed and silence descended once again as the figure climbed off the bike, and set to work locking it up.

Harry gave an excited laugh and ran out of the front door, skidding to a halt in front of him and crossed him arms. Sirius pulled his helmet off and Harry gave him a cool stare.

"You're late," he accused.

Sirius looked at him uncertainly for a few seconds, before Harry's mouth began to twitch, then they both burst out laughing, much to the confusion of Remus who stepped out of the house a few moments later. 

"Where did you get it from?" asked Harry excitedly, running a finger across the sleek black paintwork of the huge motorbike.

"Wales, a friend of mine deals in them, gave me a special deal," said Sirius happily, looking at his bike fondly.

"You're just trying to outdo me and my new machine aren't you Padfoot?" asked Remus dryly, looking at the bike with less than enthusiasm. 

"It's nothing compared to your beast of a car Moony," said Sirius with a grin, while on cue the Beetle gave a few clanking sounds of protest at the sunlight on it. 

Harry gave a laugh and suddenly turned to his godfather with a pleading look plastered all across his face, "Can I go on it Sirius? Please?"

"No. You're too young, and it's too dangerous" he said quickly and solemnly.

"Aw Sirius! In less than a month I'll be old enough for my own bike!" said Harry in indignant protest, "Just a quick go, I won't go far I promise!"

"No!" said Sirius, "Like I said before it's too dangerous!"

"What he means Harry, is that he doesn't want you to scratch it," said Remus simply, while Sirius shot him a look.

"It's not that!" he said resentfully, "It's just, Harry doesn't know how to drive a motorbike!"

"Mother hen!" coughed Harry suddenly, and when they both looked at him in surprise he pretended to be looking around himself innocently.

"What did you say?" asked Sirius suspiciously.

"Nothing…" said Harry with an angelic smile across his face.

"Hmmm," said Sirius, watching him out of the corner of his eye while Remus snickered to himself. 

"Mother Hen" he coughed again, and Sirius pointed an accusing finger at him.

"I do not mother you," said Sirius looking scandalised at the accusation.

"No, you don't mother me," said Harry considerately, before ticking off a list on his fingers, "You mother me _and _father me _and _grandparent me – if such a thing was possible."

"Moony! Stop this defamation of character at once!" yowled Sirius, "…and stop laughing!"

Harry and Remus both cracked up while Sirius stood there fuming silently. After waiting a few moments of waiting for them to stop, he finally threw his hands up in the air and gave a defeated sigh. 

"Fine, Fine! Harry, you can sit _on the back_ and I'll take you into the village."

Harry gave a whoop of triumph while Remus rolled his eyes. Soon Sirius's small backpack of belongings was stowed away in the house and he whipped out his wand and pointed at his helmet.

"_Exemplum_," he commanded and an exact copy of his helmet lay in his hands. 

Harry shoved it on his head while commenting on Sirius's new wand, as his old one had been taken away and snapped when he'd entered Azkabam.

"Thirteen and half inches, rosewood and dragon heartstring," he said proudly, putting it inside his jacket.

They climbed onto the back of the motorbike and Remus came running out of the house, pressing a £10 note into Harry's hand.

"Get us some take away for dinner will you?" he asked while Harry placed it securely into his pocket and nodded. 

In a few seconds Sirius was gunning the engine loudly, mostly to annoy Remus who was watching with a fixed smile, hand pressed over his ears. And then, they were pulling away, spraying gravel across the drive and bolting down the country lanes quickly. Harry laughed out loud in joy as the wind whipped his muggle clothes as they went round the corner almost horizontal to the floor. 

In no time at all they were entering the small village of Princetown, and Sirius slowed down, much to Harry's disappointment. The kids in the area had all finished school for hours now and they were out on the village green again, kicking the ball around. However they all stopped playing when they heard the roar of the engine, and watched the bike drive past slowly. He quickly pulled up in front of a small fish and chips shop in front of the green and Harry climbed off the back. 

"Just get three lots of fish 'n' chips. I'm just going to go visit a friend on the other side of the village, are you good to walk back?" came Sirius's muffled voice through his helmet.

Harry nodded and stepped back as the engine roared again. Sirius couldn't help but show off Harry thought as he wheel skidded in a 360 degree loop before flying off down the road, at about double the speed limit. Again Harry marvelled at his new found freedom, and wondered when the last time he was alone like this was – it must have been before his third year during his stay at the Leaky Cauldron. 

Harry shook off the thoughts and pulled off the helmet, his unruly hair sticking up in every direction possible now. He avoided the gaze of the kids on the green across the road, and turned and walked into the small take-away. 

A jolly little bell tinkled above the door when he walked in and the smell of grease hit him straight away. Behind the counter was a bored looking woman, who was regarding Harry warily. It was the kind of look that seemed to be contemplating phoning the police, if he even breathed in a way the wiry old lady thought was slightly dangerous. 

Harry coughed and looked up at the illuminated board above her head with interest. He'd never actually had fish and chips before, and was looking forward to the traditional British take away immensely.

"Can I help you?" queried the old lady suspiciously.

"Er yes. Could I have three fish and chips please?" Harry asked, watching her in amusement as she scowled and busied herself with the fryer.

Harry turned and watched the kids playing football again, thinking back to PE lessons at school. He'd never been picked for the teams – usually because Dudley, not because his lack of talent on the field. When he thought about it football was really the muggle equivalent of Quidditch, and he amused himself slightly by thinking about what these kids would say if they ever saw a game of the sport. 

"You local?" asked the woman in a hard voice.

"I'm staying with an.…uncle of mine, just outside the village," said Harry, wondering if anyone knew of Remus's presence.

"Ah," said the woman, her former mood evaporating with the steam from the fryers as she regarded him happily.

Obviously being a 'local' was an extremely good way to judge someone's character and soon she was happily chatting away with Harry, telling him all about her house, health, holidays and anything else she felt like discussing. In the end Harry was beginning to get very tired of having to answer all her questions politely, and rather relieved when she handed him a plastic bag full of food.

With a final wave and polite goodbye Harry stepped out into the sun, and began the long walk home. Secretly he thought Sirius and Remus were purposely trying to give him a bit of freedom, and he was thankful for it. He walked slowly towards the road back to the moors and Remus's house, but seated himself at a bench for a while. Finally he was alone, and he was going to savour every quiet filled second. He pulled his bag of fish and chips and unwrapped the newspaper from around it, the smell wafted up and Harry pulled out a greasy chip. 

Suddenly a shadow blocked out the sunlight and Harry looked up quickly, seeing a group of four boys standing in front of him looking sweaty and tired. 

"Hey," said one slightly awkwardly, probably because the other boys were prodding him the back, "I'm Greg, and this is Jack, Nick and Rory."

"Hey," said Harry blankly, "I'm Harry."

Again more prodding to the back of the 'leader' who shot the other's a furious look before turning to Harry, "We saw you come in on the motorbike…"

"Yeah, that was so cool!" said one with a vigorous nod of he head.

Soon he were joined by the others happy ramblings about the bike, while Harry sat there feeling totally bewildered. Why were they talking to him?

"So have you just moved in?" asked one of them, Rory in looked like.

"Yeah, just for the summer, I'm staying with my Uncle," said Harry cautiously, while everyone nodded happily.

"You from London way? You don't sound like your from round here," said Nick knowingly, while the others rolled him eyes.

"Surrey actually," said Harry, secretly grinning as the other boys laughed at Nick for getting it wrong. 

"So…just for the summer? Why is that?" asked Jack.

"I'm er, going back to boarding school," said Harry, even more cautious this time. 

"Tough break…" said Greg consolingly while Harry just shrugged.

More prodding to the back of Greg, who stepped forward like some kind of spokesman, "Would you like to come and play football for a while? We're one down for a whole team."

Harry looked at them blankly not knowing what to say, he was _never _picked for teams (unless you counted Quidditch). Fortunately he was put off answering the question by the sudden roar of Sirius's motorbike and they all watched him drive past the other side of the green and disappear down the lane towards Remus's house. Harry guessed his friend wasn't in and he looked apologetically up at the boys.

"Sorry, I better go."

"No worries mate, how about you come down tomorrow? We play every night," said Jack with an encouraging smile.

"Yeah maybe, I'll see what I'm doing – I might be visiting friends soon," said Harry with a smile, "But if I've got a free day I'll definitely come down."

"Cool!"

With much waves of goodbye and shouts of "see you later mate!" and "tomorrow!" Harry finally walked away setting off down the long lane through the moors. 

Harry thought it very strange that the friendly guys from the village would want a perfect stranger to play football with him, but he shrugged it off and walked up the empty road. Night was quickly approaching when he walked up the drive and gave one last look at Sirius motorbike, before letting himself in quietly through the unlocked front door. He could hear Sirius and Remus talking in the living room and he was about to close the front door when he heard Sirius say his name, he stopped short and listened intently.

"Harry hasn't shown any sign of his...abilities has he?" 

Harry leant forward and listened suspiciously, obviously they were talking about him and his magus powers.

"Not that I've seen…but then again I haven't seen him much," came Remus's voice. 

"Hmm, Dumbledore said he should be showing signs of some sort now…especially after all the stuff that happened at Riddle Manor."

"I honestly haven't seen anything."

"Did you know that Dumbledore getting him a tutor?" asked Sirius suddenly.

"No, what sort of tutor?"

"To help train him in this magus power thing. Apparently he's bringing in this guy from China…helped train Catalina as a child," said Sirius anxiously.

Harry gawked at the closed door. He was getting a tutor? For his magus powers? He'd taught Catalina as a child? This was all news to him and he felt slightly put out that no one had bothered to mention to him that he was going to be getting all this training. 

"Does Harry know?" asked Remus while Harry pressed his ear closer to the door.

"Not yet…Dumbledore is having trouble getting this man to come over here, he didn't want to say anything in case it all fell through," said Sirius.

Harry felt slightly guilty for thinking such bad thoughts of Dumbledore now that he'd heard that, and chided himself for jumping to conclusions.

"Personally I think he's got more than enough on his plate to be worrying about extra tuition and all that stuff, what with everything that's going on at the moment," said Remus with worry lacing his voice.

"You're right… What's he been like here, are you enjoying him staying over?" he had asked.

After a few seconds of thought Harry heard his old professor answer, "To be honest it's been very strange."

"In what way?"

"Well, can you remember seeing him grown up for the first time, in his third year? Well my first thought was how much he looked liked James – the spitting image, the only way you could tell them apart was by the eyes," began Remus hesitantly.

"Yes…?" prompted Sirius a few moments later and Harry leaned closer against the door.

"Well, I'd always imagined him to be exactly like James in every other way as well. But he's not – he's the exact opposite, have you noticed that?"

"Yes, I have," said Sirius heavily, "And I know what you mean, he's so _quiet_, he only ever really talks and laughs when he's around his close friends, and even less so now after everything that's happened."

"Yes, that's what I mean, he's been extremely quiet before you got here, even more so than usual – I think he must really be depressed about Catalina, and the Weasley family of course."

"You're right, he always seems to be off in a dream world thinking, always looking serious. But he had a lot more cares than James as his age," said Sirius thoughtfully.

"I know. I stupidly thought it'd be like having James here, and it is, I have to catch myself not calling him that instead. He looks like James, but you're right he's not like him at all – scarily unlike him," said Sirius with a heavy sigh.

Harry felt slightly worried that he wasn't like his father. He wanted to be like his father – everyone liked him, from what everyone kept telling him. He felt slightly guilty to be eavesdropping on their conversation.

"Its sometimes scary isn't it, how much alike and dissimilar they are, it's strange to look at him – makes me feel old and young all at the same time," said Sirius with a dry laugh. 

"But he's definitely his own person – not much of Lily in him apart from his temper," said Remus laughing as well.

"Yeah you're right!" exclaimed Sirius with a short laugh, "When we were arguing last year, it was just like that time she felt out with me, in our seventh year remember?"

"Yeah, she didn't speak to you for a whole two months did she?"

"Well, it wasn't really my fault," protested Sirius.

"You destroyed her final coursework for her NEWT's!" laughed Remus.

"Oh yeah…" said Sirius sheepishly, "Didn't mean she had to punch me in the nose."

"Well that was your own fault Padfoot my old friend."

"I swear she broke it," he muttered sullenly.

Harry stifled a laugh at Sirius's antics and decided it was time to make himself known. He slammed the door shut loudly and made especial care for them to hear him trudging up the passageway. He stuck a head around the door and mustered the brightest smile he could find.

"Somebody order take-away?"

*

AN/ Sorry about the wait! It's my 18th birthday tomorrow and all hells broken loose at home with family coming over for dinner and stuff! Finally managed a few moments alone to get access to the comp lol!

So, what do you think? Sorry if it's a bit slow, there are more loose ends from the last story to tie up than I originally thought!

THANKS TO…Angelis, David M. Potter, Dragongirl, Esperanza, Heather, Hehehe, Lorna, Mare, Preciousgirl, Ragnarok144, Renee Fay, Riser155, Shdurrani…FOR ALL THEIR LOVELY REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER ONE!


	4. Roses Are Red, Aren't They?

****

~*~*~ Chapter Three ~*~*~

Roses Are Red…Aren't They?

Life at the Gatehouse was never dull to say to least, and Harry found the time passing quickly, and being stuck in a small house with two of the original marauders was beginning to take it's toll on Harry. Sirius thought it was his duty as a friend to help Remus practice of his practical Auror's test, and took every opportunity to jump out of the shadows of the house in an attempt to stun his best friend. 

Even Harry was getting good at recognising the familiar quiet that descended the house when Sirius was planning an attack, and although his sight was less than perfect his hearing more than made up for it. Often he heard the creaking floorboards or quiet footfalls before Remus looked up, and began to reach for his wand, and as it drew closer to Harry's birthday it began to get wearisome. 

"At least it's good practise for you as well," commented Remus dryly as Sirius tried to catch him unawares. 

The door burst open and in a flash of light Sirius was hanging upside down in the doorway, being suspended from some invisible ropes around his feet. 

Harry tried not to laugh to much as Remus carried on cooking breakfast and ignored Sirius's desperate yelps from the doorway. They had sat down to start eating when he finally took notice of his pleads.

"Come on Moony!" yowled Sirius, "I'm just trying to help you prepare!"

"Really Padfoot, you'd think you'd realise by now that you just can't catch me unawares. I've lived with you too long not to know that when all goes quiet its time to watch your back," laughed Remus.

"Fine, Fine! But if you get caught out in the exam don't blame me!" said Sirius, folding his arms across his chest and attempting to glare through the mass of hair that shielded his eyes. 

Remus gave a chortle and with a flick of his wand Sirius was released and fell to the floor with a thump. Harry gave a laugh as he watched his godfather clamber to his feet, looking extremely red in the face from all the blood rushing to his head, and seated himself at the table with as much dignity as possible.

He was eyeing Harry and Remus's breakfast hungrily.

"Where's mine then?" he finally asked when his stomach could take no more.

"Oh, I nearly forgot, I bought you a special breakfast from the shop yesterday," said Remus with a sly wink at Harry.

"_Accio,_" he said and a box flew out of the cupboard, and slammed into Sirius hand.

"Pedigree Chum – _dog mix_?" he exclaimed indignantly, as Harry and Remus forgot all pretence of being serious and burst out laughing. 

*

And that was the way the holiday progressed. He had little contact with the outside world, save many letters to and from the Burrow, and the desperately long wait for Dumbledore's reply from St Mungo's who Harry felt were taking an extraordinarily long amount of time.

He was happy to see that Mr Weasley was coming out in a few days time, and didn't seem to be too badly effected by the curses placed upon him. Harry would soon be invited over to the Burrow Ron had said, as soon as everything was settled down – his father seemed slightly confused by the events still. There was still no news on Percy – no trace of him had ever been found since the attack, and although the Manor had been searched little was left of it to be searched, the curses rained upon it by Harry and Catalina had destroyed over half the wing of it. 

That was the curious thing that Harry hadn't spoken to anyone else about. Ever since that night he had been aware of his Magus powers, more so than before when he acquired them. He had his own theories over what had happened that night and why his powers had suddenly developed when it took years of practise usually. Ron had once told him that the Magus power was only released in moments of extreme emotion and anger, and that night at Riddle Manor he had double the amount of terrified emotions coursing through him on and off like a light switch. Harry thought that maybe it had forced his powers to develop prematurely – because of the extreme circumstances, and now he felt that the power was lurking around him, just out of reach.

A few times, while in the privacy of his own room, he'd tried to do things with his Magus power, like summoning coins or pins. A few times he thought something happened, and he definitely felt a tingle of electricity around his fingers – but it may have been wishful thinking. But most of the time he'd failed miserably and had left himself feeling incredibly stupid and self-conscious and flicked the pins away moodily, as if they'd somehow personally offended him. 

With the time that passed by, nothing much of importance happened. Harry had his birthday, and he, Remus and Sirius did nothing more than have a special (home cooked) meal, both Ron and Hermione were too busy to come, although they offered profuse apologies. Harry's birthday just happened to coincide with Mr Weasley's release, and Hermione was taking a few weeks away from Britain and staying in France again with her parents.

His presents more than made up for it though. Remus and Sirius clubbed together and bought Harry a fire proof shirt to go underneath his Order robes – to avoid some of the new fireball curses the Death Eaters were using. Ron bought him a big bag of assorted sweets from Honeyduke's and a small card – Harry wasn't surprised, he'd had more than enough on his plate with his father's hospitalisation and Percy's disappearance to go around shopping. Hermione sent him a book (as usual) but this time Harry was genuinely excited by the title, which read '_Magus – the power behind the gift_'. It was the book Harry and Ron had read last year in the library and now Harry couldn't wait to get down to reading it and see what they had to say on the early development of the power. 

But the best present came three days after Harry's birthday – when he was barely awake. The last few days had been exceptionally hot – especially for England, and as such he had slept on top of his bed with the window wide open, English homes weren't made to be cool, they were built along the lines of greenhouses, anything to keep the heat in. 

He was dozing lightly that morning, as the sun was already shining through the window into his eyes. He had rolled over and buried his face against the wall and didn't even register the sound of fluttering wings by his ear. His dreams and thoughts were foggy at the border between sleep and wakefulness but the sudden pressure to his right ear was enough to alert him. He groggily opened his eyes, and felt another sharp nip on his ear and a flurry of white in front of his eyes. 

His brain started telling him this was important and he forced himself to sit up and look around – and there, to his undying excitement, sat Hedwig, clutching a small piece of parchment.

"Hedwig!" cried Harry happily, fully awake now, tugging the parchment off of her as fast as possible without causing too much alarm.

He unfurled it quickly and searched around for his glasses desperately. Finally he found them under his bed and slipped them onto his nose. He instantly recognised Dumbledore's familiar loopy handwriting and his heart rose in joy, although he forced himself be more calm and realistic as he hadn't read what it said yet.

__

Dear Harry,

Thank you for all of your impatient letters, and I am glad to say I have the answer you have been awaiting for so long. The doctors at St Mungo's have informed me that her condition has improved sufficiently for her to be able to receive visitors.

As of before only her mother has been able to visit her, but she has become ill herself, apparently the stress of the past few months is the cause. In any case, you are free to visit her for a short period whenever you like, although I have some things to point out to you that have been brought to my attention by the staff at the hospital.

Catalina has been very ill, as you well know, but the doctors have been more worried about her mentally rather than physically now. She is beginning to recover well from the exhaustion and weakness she brought upon herself while in Azkabam, though she has been loathe to allow the doctors to treat her. She has been constantly using her wandless magic against the doctors to stop them helping, usually by putting up her own protection fields.

Harry, you must understand she is very depressed and has been deeply traumatised by the past few months, she has been under 24 hour supervision since she woke up and has displayed worrying signs of depression. She is very troubled Harry.

Don't expect too much when you visit her, she may not even let you come in, I know Joseph Savoir, the Judge at her trial has tried to visit her a few times but has not been able to get past her fields. Take care, hopefully you will be able to get through to her as you have done before.

Best Wishes,

Albus Dumbledore.

Harry finished the letter, then sat in stunned silence for a while. He didn't realised how bad Catalina could have been. After a few minutes of worried contemplation he read through the letter again. Although the news the latter contained wasn't all good, Harry couldn't help smiling with excitement at what Dumbledore said, _you are free to visit her for a short period whenever you like_!

He beamed happily and jumped out of bed fully awake now, full of nervous energy. Forgetting all thoughts of getting changed first, he bounded down the stairs two and a time and practically ran all the way to the breakfast table, where Remus and Sirius were sitting reading the paper. They looked up bemusedly and took in his appearance, as Harry jumped from foot to foot ceaselessly. 

"Where's the fire?" asked Remus wryly, going back to his paper.

"Dumbledore wrote to me this morning!" said Harry breathlessly, handing Sirius the letter.

He read it out loud for the benefit of Remus and cast meaningful glances at Remus a few times during it. Harry meanwhile was waving him on impatiently, feeling that at last things were going his way, he could go and see her – finally, after so long! After Sirius had finished he laid the piece of parchment on the table and regarded Harry for a few moments.

"Can we go see her or what?" asked Harry desperately after the short silence. 

Sirius looked across to his friend who just shrugged his shoulders, but when he looked back into the face of his godson which was shining with anticipation he couldn't say anything but yes.

"Of course, we'll go this afternoon. Visiting times are usually 1 till 3," said Sirius, while Harry punched the air happily.

Harry excused himself saying he was getting ready and scampered up the stairs as quickly as he came, leaving the slightly bemused, slightly worried pair sitting at the table. After a couple of minutes of contemplative silence, Sirius picked up the letter again and read it with a frown. 

"I don't like the sound of this at all," he said in a worried tone, while Remus gave him a thoughtful look. 

"Which bit of it? The bit about the Supreme Judge trying to visit her, the fact she won't let anybody near her or the bit about the 24-hour guard she's under?" he asked.

"All of it."

They both cast worried glances up the stairs where Harry had disappeared up, and Sirius scanned the letter again, as if he was searching for hidden clues.

"Especially the 24 hour guard bit though," said Sirius a few minutes later, "that's a suicide watch isn't it?"

Remus gave a small nod, "I wondered why Harry did pick up on that…he must be too excited."

"To tell you the truth I wasn't surprised to read _that _bit," said Sirius leaning back on his chair, "That girl spent a month and a half in Azkabam Moony. Dementors or no Dementors, that place is still hell on earth. I was actually quite surprised that she walked back out of that place."

Remus nodded in agreement, and they were silent for a few more minutes. They still weren't sure about how to treat the whole Catalina situation, it had become something of a taboo subject. After a worried eye cast up the doorway, Sirius leaned forward conspiratorially. 

"What do _you _think about her?" he whispered.

Remus's eyes darted to the side as well and he answered quietly, "I don't really know. But Harry's a free person Sirius, he's a good judge of character."

Sirius gave a frown, but nodded and leaned back in his chair again. 

"Are you going to come?" he asked a while later. 

"No, I've got too much studying to do. I've got a feeling this is going to be one of many visits anyway."

Sirius sighed heavily, and the conversation ended. They continued to eat their breakfast, smirking sometimes when they heard Harry banging around upstairs, who was taking an unusually long time to get dressed.

Upstairs, Harry was having a dilemma. Muggle or Wizarding clothes? He knew he was going to be travelling to a wizarding establishment, but he didn't know _how _they were going to get there. He knew St Mungo's was far away – far enough for his emotional connection with Catalina to be so dim he couldn't hear anything at all unless he sat in total silence and tried to listen hard – and even then he wasn't quite sure _who _he was listening too. 

He decided to wear muggle clothes in the end, as the only robes he actually had were his school ones and his dress robes from last year. He glanced at the clock, it was only half nine, and time was refusing to travel at normal rate. He had hours to go and he tried to while some of the time away by reading the book Hermione got him for his birthday – but he couldn't concentrate. The seconds were crawling past and a few times Harry pick up his clock and shook it a bit – just to make sure it was working. 

Three hours before visiting time started, he went down the stairs and asked how they were going to get there. Apparently it was a floo ride to what Remus called a 'floo station' then they would walk to the hospital. Harry inquired about the floo station – apparently it was just a building full of fireplaces where you could travel to and from. A packet of floo powder cost a few sickles apparently and it was much the same as a train station. It had portkeys as well, for international 'flights', and they were dotted all around the country. Apparently to nearest floo station was in the city of Plymouth, 30 miles away – which meant a hair raising trip in Remus's banga or a thrilling drive on Sirius's bike. Harry personally prayed for the latter.

With that sorted he went upstairs and whiled away another half an hour by trying to count all the swirls on the artex roof. He counted 459 before he got bored and went down stairs again. 

"Do you think I should take anything?" asked Harry worriedly, "Like grapes, people get grapes in hospital don't they, I heard that somewhere…"

Remus and Sirius shared a knowing glance, while Remus casually suggested, "Flowers. People usually take flowers, something to brighten up the surroundings as it were."

Harry had nodded thoughtfully, then made a beeline for Remus's garden as the two men sniggered. After a fruitless ten-minute search through the undergrowth, he found nothing resembling flowers, although he did find a multitude of interesting looks weeds and magical plants. He wandered back into the house, and the two men were still sitting there watching him, eyebrows raised.

"No flowers?" asked Sirius innocently.

"I wasn't looking for flowers," Harry lied, feeling more than a bit stupid.

"Oh, ok then," said Sirius turning back to his paper, while Harry shuffled slightly.

"But…if I _was_ looking for flowers," he began in an embarrassed way, "Where would I find them?"

"The florist shop in the village most likely," said Remus, straight faced.

"Right," said Harry hastily, hanging around for a few seconds, before forgetting all pretence of being a non-flower hunter, bolted out of the room.

To his disappointment he only had a few sickles and knuts in his trunk – no muggle money at all. He realised with a sinking heart that he'd have to go and ask Remus for an exchange, and gathered his courage and walked down the stairs.

"Er Remus," Harry asked a few minutes later, in a small voice so Sirius couldn't hear, "You haven't got any muggle money I could change for sickles have you?"

"Whatever for Harry?" asked Remus with a glint in his eye.

"Er…chocolate!" he said suddenly, remembering the small sweet shop in the village, "I thought I might walk into the village and er buy some chocolate, to waste time."

Remus nodded with a small smile, and completed the transaction, while Harry glared at the newspaper hiding Sirius's face – it was shaking with silent laughter. After a few minutes, Harry had pulled on his trainers, and walked out the front door, hearing Sirius's voice float across the wind before it shut. 

"Red roses are always good!"

He scowled and banged the door shut. It was still hot and Harry was soon sweating as the air was unnaturally still. The village loomed over the ridge of the hill and Harry made slow progress towards it, trying to waste time. When he entered he found it quite bustling with people, it was school holidays, hot and it also happened to be market day. 

He passed by some interesting looking stalls selling all manor of local produce from jams, meats, cheeses and furniture – but no flowers. He stopped and looked at a few of the stalls, finding a dried flowers stalls with a kind old woman sitting on her stool grinning encouragingly at him. Somehow he didn't think dried flowers were quite the same and he made his polite excuses and scurried off as the old woman's face fell sadly. 

Eventually he located a small shop tucked away in one corner, slowly baking in the summer sun, and pushed his way in through the door. The bell gave a jangle and all noise stopped. It was absolutely silent in the shop, and Harry didn't dare breathe as he looked around the huge vases with mounting confusion. There were flowers of every colour, size and shape and he didn't know which ones were which – he could only recognise the shapes of weeds. 

Suddenly a young woman walked out from the beaded curtain behind the desk and fixed him with a kind smile. 

"Looking for something?" 

"Flowers," said Harry, then feeling quite stupid tried to elaborate, "For a friend of mine."

"Ah," said the woman wisely, already moving towards buckets that littered the floor, "is it a special occasion or is it just a present?"

Harry gave this some thought. It wasn't exactly a special occasion so he chose present. 

"Birthday?" she guessed.

"Not really. She's in…hospital," muttered Harry.

"I see, well we have some lovely…" and she trailed off into a huge list of strange flower names that went right over Harry's head.

After a few seconds she seemed to notice Harry's rather fixed smile, and produced a bunch of red flowers.

"How about these?" 

They were red, they looked like they may have been roses, and Harry was going to say they looked the same as everything else he'd seen but held his tongue. 

"Yeah, they're fine," he said, looking at his watch. 

A few minutes later Harry emerged into the blinding sunlight, decidedly more poor and bedecked with a large bunch of roses. He started the long walk home, feeling like a right pillock carrying a bunch of flowers that were already looking slightly droopy in the heat. Within 20 minutes he was back at the Gatehouse, trying desperately to hide the bunch from Remus and Sirius, who gave knowing smiles and small sniggers every now and again.

And then it was time to go.

*

In the end they took Sirius's motorbike, and Harry fiercely defended his flowers, which were getting increasingly battered in their shrunken form in his pocket. Harry decided he really liked the new form of transportation, better than portkeys, floor powders and the horrors that lay ahead of him with apparation. 

Some things you just had to do the muggle way.

It was a half an hour drive to the city of Plymouth on Sirius's bike and Harry enjoyed every thrilling, wind-whipping minute. He seemed to know exactly where he was going and Harry took the time to enjoy the sights, and there were plenty of them to see. First on the moors with what seemed like hundreds of miles of nothingness, then there was the gentle transition from moors to tiny hamlets, then villages, then towns before they finally reached the borders of the city. 

Plymouth was a typical city – too much grey concrete that had replaced the old houses after the bombing it endured in the Second World War, and bustling with tourists and locals alike. But it was in the grey, ordinary city of Plymouth, that Harry saw one of the most amazing things he'd ever seen in his life – _the sea_. 

Sirius pulled up on a harbour wall and Harry had been too busy looking the other side at the shops and the people to notice where they were. When they got off Harry stared opened mouth at the vision of blue in front of him. As if in a trance he walked to the railing and looked across, tasting the salt in the air, listening to the waves bash against the harbour wall, hearing the ear-splitting yelps of the seagulls. 

He was ensnared by the image – everything from the quaint little bobbing fish trawlers, the small speedboats whizzing past – but most of all the _vastness _of it. For as far as his eyes could see there was the ocean, sparkling like some kind of over-enthusiastic sequinned dress. Harry wished he could stand and watch it for ever, until he remembered why he was here, and was pulled away gently by Sirius. 

He was steered down some back streets of the old Tudor quarter of the city, the wattle and daub houses overhanging the small cobbled streets. They paused in front of a small pub called The Wand and Sceptre which Harry would never had noticed if Sirius hadn't have pointed it out. He followed his godfather in, and Harry noted how similar it was in appearance to the Leaky Cauldron – dingy and gloomy. They left by the back door and came to a back wall. It was an exact copy of the entrance to Diagon Alley Harry thought as they step through the archway revealed by Sirius's wand. 

"It was the same designer," Sirius informed him as they stepped through, "and this is known as Drake's Way."

It was much smaller than Diagon Alley for a start, with only one small street, bursting with shops and people enjoying the sunny afternoon. Harry saw many of the famous shops – Flourish and Blotts, Zonko's, Madam Malkin's, as well as a few new ones. There was a glassworks called Barbican Glass, a magical supplies shop known as Athelney's Apothecary, as well as various other little food shops and private businesses. But they passed all these and headed towards a large, squat green building at the end with 'Plymouth Station' written across the top. 

They stepped inside the building and were met by a cool blast of air. The place was packed with people and all around the walls were signs flashing giving departure rooms for portkeys around the world, ticket booths and floo powder salesmen. Harry managed to duck out of the way, just as 20 Chinese wizards' rugby tackled the crowd out of the way, battling to get to departure room 6 before their key went off. 

"Why couldn't we just use Remus's fireplace?" asked Harry, nursing his painfully trodden feet. 

"He got disconnected last month. _Somebody _forgot to pay his grate rental," he said with a roll of his eyes, "he's being reconnected any day now – or so the Department of Magical Transportation say."

A disembodied voice announced the 12.37 to Addis Ababa was leaving presently, and Sirius dodged his way towards the floo desk. There was a woman sitting behind with a bored expression on her face, which instantly disappeared when Sirius sidled up. She became slightly flustered as she dealt their tickets out and told them which room to go to. Sirius thanked her with a dazzling smile and Harry rolled his eyes in disgust and walked off. Sirius caught him up with an injured look on his face, but led Harry to the floo room. 

It was basically a fireplace showroom. Blank white walls filled with hundreds of fireplaces stretching far away into the distance, completely defying the laws of optics. They were all either labelled 'incoming' or 'outgoing' and every now and again a few people would stumble out of the continuously roaring 'incoming' grates. Sirius picked one of the nearest, whose empty grate leapt to life with a roar of flames when they stood next to it. Before Harry knew what was happening his glasses were safely tucked into his pocket, he was swallowing mouthful's of bitter tasting ash and yelling out "Newcastle Station!"

One extremely long and uncomfortable floo ride later, Harry was stumbling out of a grate in an identical floo room to the one he'd just been in, choking and spluttering. Floo was _definitely _not his favourite way to travel. He looked around, realising with a thrill that he could _hear _her, loud and clear. And Harry was shocked at how upset and depressed she was – it was like stepping from the inside of your quiet calm house into the middle of a hurricane. 

Seconds later Sirius arrived, stepping out of the flames perfectly – not in the least bit effected by the smoke and soot. Harry checked his pockets, the flowers were still there but looked even more battered and droopy than before it's 700 mile leap across the country. Harry followed him out of the building onto the busy street of yet another Diagon Alley wannabe, except there was one slight difference from this one to Drake's Way, and that was the megalith of a building centred in the middle – St Mungo's Hospital. 

*

AN/ Hey All, sorry about the long radio silence, have been recovering from my birthday and boy did that take some time! Needed to be brought home in a shopping trolley if that give you some idea about the state I was in!

Anyway, enough of the debauchery of the youthful population, drinking is not big and its not clever as the adverts say!

Thanks for all your reviews (a whole five of them for the last chapter)…those DEDICATED reviews deserve a big congrats **Riser155, Preciousgirl, Mad Ant, Aryanna, dementorchic**…you're all very NICE to write to me! (hope all your non-reviewers are squirming in your seats!). To Mad Ant, thanks for the info about holes in biros, that was very helpful - I can now sleep peacefully knowing that!

What do you think of this chapter then? Hope you like, and the meeting coming up next! What did you think of my Diagon Alley replacements and floo/airport stations? A little bit of poetic license. All the names are historically accurate for the area! If you've ever been to Plymouth (those Americans out there probably know about it because of the Mayflower, and Brits because of the…well nothing actually, were not famous at all.)


	5. St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies

****

~*~*~ Chapter Four ~*~*~

St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies

St. Mungo's was much bigger than Harry had expected and within its large white walls it contained a veritable labyrinth of passageways and corridors. He couldn't tell the difference between the magical hospital and the normal muggle hospital, they both had brilliant white walls, doctors and nurses flying backwards and forwards, strange and scary looking equipment and the ever-present smell of disinfectant. 

They walked towards a large desk, behind which a nurse sat furiously filling out forms – she didn't even look up when they arrived.

"What do you want?" she asked, not unkindly – just in the voice of someone who had too many places to be and things to do. 

"Good afternoon. We'd like the visit Catalina Firelight, we believe she's in this ward?"

This got the woman's attention and he head snapped up in the air, quill forgotten, hovering above her page. She suddenly looked very nervous and worried and her gaze darted down the corridor quickly before she placed a false smile on her face.

"Let me just go and…check…with the doctor a second," she said hastily, disappearing into a back room and picking up what looked suspiciously like a telephone. 

Sirius turned to Harry and raised a questioning eyebrow, while Harry pulled out his roses and handed them to Sirius with a sorrowful expression, who merely smirked light-heatedly. He instantly enlarged them, and racked his brains for a spell to make them look less, well, dead basically. 

Meanwhile Harry was nearly dancing with impatience, he was finally here, he was within meters (probably) of her room and he was standing around _waiting. _However, he didn't have to for long as a white robed doctor came striding towards them, looking brisk and business like. 

"Hello, I'm Doctor Rahn, I believe your inquiring after Miss Firelight?" he asked offering a hand towards Sirius.

"Yes, hello Doctor, I'm Sirius Black, and this is Harry Potter," he said shaking his hand and then motioning to Harry.

If the doctor was surprised that he had an ex-convict and the Boy-Who-Lived standing in front of him, he didn't show it, and merely directed them towards his office. Harry sat down in the small plastic chair and listened to Catalina – she was so upset, so _depressed_, it sounded as if she was screaming by the sheer volume of emotion coming from her. 

"I take it you are familiar with Miss Firelight's condition?" asked the doctor pulling out a file and spreading it out in front of him.

"Yes, we've been in close contact with Albus Dumbledore," said Sirius, taking charge and allowing Harry to sit back and fidget impatiently. 

"Well I am pleased to say that physically, Miss Firelight is improving every day," he said peering intently at the two through his thick glasses, "though through no help from the staff here I can tell you."

"Yes, Dumbledore did mention she was posing a bit of a challenge," said Sirius with what could almost be described as a grin. 

"Challenge isn't the word for it," muttered the man heavily, pulling off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose, "she's been a most _difficult _patient."

Harry almost allowed himself a wry smile – Catalina wasn't made for sitting around in bed for too long, he remembered all too well their time in Hogwarts hospital wing after the Hogsmeade attack. As Harry reminisced the two men continued to talk and Harry tried to ground his thoughts.

"She insists on having protections fields around her all the time – although I say she insists, we really can't tell what she's saying as she keeps speaking in a foreign tongue. She does it to annoy me I swear, every day I manage to track down a translator for the language she's using then she'd goes and changes it!" said the man in exasperation.

Harry did grin this time, it sounded like she was trying to have a bit of fun which could only be a good sign he decided.

"And what is it today?" asked Sirius now with a small grin himself.

"French," said the man looking forlorn, "which wouldn't be too bad, but I can't remember a word of the language, and she speaks so damn quickly when she does."

Harry remembered trying to demonstrate his ability at French towards Catalina last year, ending up with nothing more than 'my name is Harry' which is always a conversation talking point for about, oh, two seconds. 

"But it's not that's bothering me," said the doctor, "we believe the language barrier is just another type of defence mechanism she's come up with. But since the last few days she's become remarkably sedate. She hardly talks at all now, and like I said before that's in a different language. We've been waiting for her to receive other visitors apart from her poor mother, just to see if we can get a reaction out of her."

"So it is ok for Harry to visit her today?" asked Sirius, looking more worried than Harry thought he should be by the news.

"Yes…to be honest I've been trying to delay you, right about now it's time for the doctors to make their rounds and her drip to be changed – it's always an, er, _event, _shall we say. I was hoping we'd miss it, but as it were…" trailed off the man unhappily, "follow me."

And that was the end of the meeting, the three of them stood up and were led down the corridors by the doctor as Harry following, leaving a trail of dead flower petals. 

They suddenly came to a halt and they stopped next to a door, with a huge glass window next to it. Harry realised with a sudden thrill that 'C.A. Firelight' was written on the piece of paper tacked to the door, and he moved towards the glass slowly. It was a one way mirror of some sort and as he drew level with it he finally laid eyes on the person he'd most wanted to see for months.

Catalina was sitting up in a large white bed, and contrary to what Harry thought and was feeling, she wasn't screaming or shouting at all…she wasn't doing much of at all. She was leaning against the white pillows, staring off at the walls to the side of her in a slightly unfocused way. He was dimly aware of Sirius and the Doctor talking between themselves, but Harry wasn't paying the slightest bit of interest, he was fixated by the sight of her. 

He long hair was splayed out behind her head and her skin had lost the sickly yellow tinge and returned to her usual pale, porcelain complexion. But she hadn't lost the black circles ringing her eyes and the general air of bone weariness that surrounded her. Harry was worried to see that the only movement coming from her was the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, nothing else, not even the flicker of her eyes.

Harry knew she must be able to hear him – the emotions should have rushed back to her as soon as he'd stepped out of the fireplace at Newcastle Station. However, her impassive face looked like it didn't even register a single of her own emotions – let alone anyone else's. She was just staring at nothing as the sense of misery overwhelmed them both. 

There was a person standing at the window with Harry, Sirius and the doctor who he guessed must have been one of her 24 hour guards, although he didn't know why she needed one, she was obviously getting better now. She looked like a normal nurse and had her hair in a tight McGonagall style bun and her eyes never even left Catalina, even while Harry was looking at her curiously. 

Just then a group of nurses and a doctor came striding down the corridor, and had a brief conversation with Doctor Rahn, before squaring their shoulders and pushing the door open. Harry pressed his nose and forehead against the glass, desperate to see what happened on one of these infamous rounds. 

"Good morning Catalina," said one of the nurses from the doorway in a kind voice. 

No reply. Catalina's face didn't even flicker with recognition she merely continued to watch the wall on the other side of the room intently. 

The doctors didn't find this very strange, though it was to Harry – strange and worrying, and they began to walk forwards.

"Allez-vous -en!" came Catalina's voice suddenly – sounding harsh and cracked. 

The posse of medical staff stopped immediately, none of them understanding the words, but getting the gist of what she was trying to say. She hadn't moved at all, not even in the slightest and Harry was tempted to say it wasn't even her speaking. 

"We're just going to change your drip today Catalina, nothing else," said one of the doctors.

She didn't say anything, but then again she didn't try to stop them as Harry had been led to believe. One of the more kindly looking nurses moved forward and towards Catalina's bed – only then did they get a reaction. She slowly turned her head from watching the opposite wall, almost as if it was stiff and painful. 

For a few brief seconds her eyes wandered across the glass and Harry felt sure for a second that she looked straight into his eyes – although he knew it was impossible. He got the biggest shock though when he looked at her eyes and realised the now familiar feline ones had disappeared and were left with her original, unfamiliar black. 

Harry could feel her panic mounting second by second, feel her absolute fear and even terror of someone coming near her. She started to babble in her strange foreign language sounding nothing like the Catalina he knew – she didn't babble, she was strong, she didn't get hysterical at the thought of meeting a stranger. She had spent her whole life meeting strangers, having to make friends – this group of kind looking doctors shouldn't have been scaring her so much. 

The nurse was making soothing noises as she moved to Catalina's side of the bed, as she carried on her hysterical ramblings. Harry looked in shock up at the Doctor and Sirius, whose mouths were set in a grim line, and he felt cheated somehow. They weren't helping her at all, they were making her worse. 

He watched feeling distinctly indignant as they woman gently lifted up the sleeves of Catalina's robes, exposing the ugly mark located above the crook of her elbow. Catalina didn't like this at all and set about telling everyone the fact. There were tears, there were shrieks, there was a brief scuffle and all the doctors rushed for the door as fast as their feet would carry them. Various curses and hex's flew through the air, and Catalina herself was suddenly lost inside her familiar shield Harry had seen only a few times. All the time Harry watched in panic and anger, shouting at Doctor Rahn to make them stop, unable to take the sight of Catalina sitting in the empty room crying miserably to herself, feverishly pulling her sleeve down as far as it would go. 

"Honestly, that was the best she'd been since she got here," said the Doctor with a heavy sigh as they turned away.

"What are you talking about?" said Harry indignantly, "Look at her – she's terrified!"

"It's only a natural reaction after what she's been through, I'm sorry you had to see it."

Harry cast a disbelieving look into Catalina's room, she was still shuddering with sobs and Harry felt as if her emotions were choking him, such were their intensity. Her shrieks were still ringing in his ears – he'd never, _never _heard her so afraid, not even in the Riddle House or at Hogsmeade. 

"Give her five minutes and you can go in," said the Doctor, making to leave, "any problems, the guards are just behind the door."

And then he was gone, white robe flapping around him as he entered another side room, with Catalina out of sight and out of mind. Harry walked back to the window and found Sirius standing behind him a few seconds later, both of them were silent. 

"She's so much worse than I thought she would be," said Harry quietly, watching Catalina beginning to quieten down. 

He didn't say anything for a while, before he answered in a quieter voice than Harry's, "You should be prepared for a long hard slog Harry. You can't imagine the thing's she's been through – been kidnapped, held captive for 24 hours as they made her do God knows what, tortured, arrested, spending months in Azkabam, the trial, then this…"

Harry gulped and shook his head, the glass felt cool against his head and calmed him slightly. He had often wondered in the dead of night what had happened in those 24-hours she was missing and nobody knew – he felt so guilty. If they hadn't been arguing, if he'd paid more attention to her, if he'd been smarter to guess…

"Do you think she'll be ok?" asked Harry fearfully.

Please say yes, thought Harry, please say she'll be up and about in no time, that she'll be on the Hogwarts Express on the 1st of September, that she'll be ok. Sirius however didn't and was silent for a long time and the sense of dread and despair built inside his chest until he thought he could match Catalina.

"Maybe," said Sirius eventually, "She'll need your help though, and Ron and Hermione's. Even when she's out of this place, the world outside is going to be a very dangerous place for."

"Voldemort," said Harry dully.

"Not necessarily. The public is who she's really going to suffer at that hands of, you know how they reacted at Hogwarts – she may not be welcome there."

"But she's innocent!" protested Harry angrily.

"Hah!" laughed Sirius bitterly, "I was innocent and nobody cared about that did they? No, she's just a piece of gossip, another piece of interesting news, public enemy number 1."

"It's so unfair," muttered Harry, expecting Sirius to say the wise old words 'life's not fair', but he didn't insult Harry's intelligence.

"You've got an hour left, you better go in," he said with a small nudge of him towards the door. 

Harry gave a grim smile and stood in front of the door for a few seconds, collecting his nerves and trying to become calm. With a look at the guard, who gave a small nod he gripped his flowers tightly, tried to flatten his hair (unsuccessfully) and pushed the door open. 

Once inside the door he shut the door firmly, and watched Catalina from his vantage point, now minus shield. She had stopped crying and was watching the far wall again, she either hadn't heard Harry come in or was ignoring him. He cast a look at the window, but saw only his pale reflection staring back at him – he was completely alone in a room with a possibly highly unstable magus.

"Allez-vous -en!" said Catalina suddenly, not taking her eyes away from the wall. 

Harry felt so lost, so unsure of what was going on. He was never usually the visitor, he was usually the visited and he couldn't understand a word she was saying. He walked towards her bed, flinching slightly as if she was away to throw him out of the room with the flick of her wrist.

"Allez-vous -en! Ne me blessez pas!" she repeated louder.

Harry rounded the foot of the bed nervously, towards the side she was lying on. She had tears in her unfamiliar black eyes and suddenly they snapped up towards Harry. They widened with surprise and she gave a start, moving the fastest Harry had seen her that day, desperately backing away from him. Harry frowned, this was not how it was supposed to happen he told himself as he watched her staring at him, breathing quickly in her panic.

She was frightened of him, and it gutted Harry as the realisation slowly stole over him.

He had lost all ability to think of anything to say, and just hovered by the side of the bed uncertainly, she was mouthing something towards him and Harry desperately hoped she wasn't going to start babbling at him in another unknown language. 

"Harry?" she asked in a whisper.

"Hey," he said softly, feeling instantly foolish, but he couldn't think of anything else to say. 

"Harry?" she repeated disbelievingly, watching him with saucer wide eyes.

He didn't know what to say, it wasn't like he could just smile and nod and say 'yep, that's my name don't wear it out'. He just stood there gripping the flowers too tight, his whole body tense and she looked back at him with a mixture of terror and shock.

"Harry?" she repeated, blankly

"How are you?" he asked, again feeling stupid, cursing his cheeks that decided to flush. 

Unsurprisingly, she didn't answer, just sat there staring at him still tugging on her sleeve desperately, although it was down as far as it could go. Harry's eyes flickered down, and he knew straight away it was a mistake, she gave a huge shudder and instantly broke out into tears. 

Harry was nothing short of terrified as her noisy sobs echoed around the empty room. He cast a pleading look across to the mirror-Harry who merely gaped back at him.

"Catalina…don't cry!" he said desperately, "It's ok…"

She completely ignored him and Harry moved forward uncertainly and reached out a consoling hand. As soon as he made contact with her coal black hair she gave a start and an electric shock jolted through his arm, not much but just enough to match him jump back in surprise. 

"Obtenez loin de moi!" she yelled at him angrily though her tears, and Harry stumbled backwards uncertainly.

He had a strong desire to run out of the door and back to the safety of the thick glass, he understood now why the doctors and nurses were so loathe to enter the room. He nursed his tingling fingers and looked forlornly at the roses on the floor, he decided that maybe that's where they should stay.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said stupidly.

Her crying lessened somewhat and her haunted black eyes were watching Harry who stared back. He couldn't take the tension, it was thick in the air, choking him and he had to do something to break it. He cast around the room for any ideas and spotted a small metal chair, dragging over to the side of her bed, but not to close in case he scared her. 

She wasn't crying at all now and her eyes settled on him and wouldn't move. He felt uncomfortable slightly, as if it wasn't Catalina watching him. He felt like she was studying every single thing about him, trying to find something in his face but being happy it wasn't there. He fidgeted in his seat, he was aware of the deafening silence in the room, even if she wasn't. 

The seconds crawled by, and Harry was completely lost for words. Everything he'd hoped to say to her, everything he'd practised in his head was wrong, wrong, _wrong. _He had nothing planned now, and it showed in the lingering silence, as Catalina surprised him by talking. 

"Why…why did you come?" she said in a quiet, sad voice.

"I needed to see you," Harry said blankly, "We've all been so worried about you."

"Why?" she said looking vaguely bewildered.

"Why?" asked Harry feeling confused, "Why shouldn't we worry about you?"

"I…I nearly killed you," she choked, her eyes full of tears again, "I…I hurt you."

"Just another scar for the collection," said Harry, trying to laugh, but what came out was almost like bark – harsh and not at all humorous.

"I'm a murderer," she said, not even looking at him now, studying the white sheets in front of her. 

"Catalina," said Harry softly, "You're not, it wasn't your fault!"

"I stabbed someone and she died! Its all my fault…" she said, squeezing her eyes shut, trying to block out the tears. 

Harry felt useless as he watched her struggle against the tears. This wasn't supposed to go like at all, Catalina was distraught – in the perfect world in Harry's head they would have been talking about how she was free and how they were looking forward to going back to Hogwarts. 

"I betrayed you," she said, her words muffled through her hands that were holding her head, "I tried to get rid of your emotions, I led them right to you, you could have died! They could have killed you, I could have killed you, its all my fault…"

"Catalina," said Harry, shocked by her sudden outburst, "I was going to that place before you went to your dad…you didn't know, how could you?"

At the mention of her dad she burst into a fresh wave of tears, and for the millionth time Harry wondered about what had happened in the 24 hours she was missing, what did they do to her? What did they make her do? He wished he knew, then sometimes he didn't, afraid of what might have happened. 

This time she was inconsolable, and Harry realised it was the end of the conversation. She turned around in her bed and Harry was left staring at her back. He couldn't help but sigh in disappointment, their first meeting was nothing as he'd planned it to be like, and he rubbed his face distractedly.

He stood up, and placed the roses on her small side table, thinking angrily how rubbish they looked. He was surprised to see that sitting on the table there was the bracelet he gave her for Christmas, the green snake eyes glittering at him strangely. He wondered briefly why she had it with her here, noticing for the first time there was nothing in the room, no get well cards, no other flowers, nothing to read or do in the long days she was here. 

"Catalina, I'm going to go now, I'll be back ok?" Harry said tentatively, watching her back.

She didn't answer right away and Harry was nearly at the door when she spoke to him.

"Don't bother."

Harry looked at her in surprise, and not a little hurt. She wasn't looking at him, her black eyes downcast at the floor as his hand was still resting on the door handle.

"Why?" he asked, turning around to her and leaning against the door. 

"You don't want to be here, I don't want you to be here," she said in a monotonous voice. 

"I do want to be here," protested Harry, almost angrily.

"No, you don't," she said sitting up in bed and watching him with silent tears pouring down her face, "I may be upset, but I can still feel you. You're scared of me!"

"I'm not-" began Harry.

"You are though! And you have every right to be! I _stabbed _you! I tried to kill you, my daddy…my daddy tried kill you!" she was saying loudly.

"It's not your fault!" Harry shouted back to her desperately, "It's no ones fault, it was just an accident!"

"Fault or no fault, I have to spend the rest of my life knowing that I killed someone, seeing them die every time I close my eyes, knowing that I nearly killed you, and that everyone knows about it and everyone blames me," she cried.

"_I _don't, people don't. They know what happened – the whole bloody country knows every single little thing that happened between us!" said Harry angrily, knowing he shouldn't be telling her this when she was so ill. 

She looked shocked and was staring at Harry now. He felt guilty for putting more on her mind, including his own anger at the situation.

"Sorry," he apologised, trying to calm down his breathing, "Listen, I better go, I will be back ok?"

He didn't wait for her to say anything, merely strode out the door, and shut it behind him, leaning against it and taking a shaky breath. He felt someone stand next to him, and peeked an eye – it was Sirius, He was giving Harry a long look, looking worried.

"Everything ok?" he asked, while Harry thought what a particularly stupid question it was.

"Lets go."

And that was the last word Harry said to Sirius. They walked out the hospital, down the street, took the first floo channel to Drake's Way and drove back to the Gatehouse in silence. As soon as they were through the door Harry took the stairs two at a time and went into his room. He was still sitting on the bed thinking when Sirius came up to ask him if he wanted dinner three hours later. He declined, telling him the connection break down had left him feeling a little ill.

Harry knew it was a lie but didn't care. He slipped into bed and lay awake for sometime, going over his conversation with Catalina in his head, trying to make sense of what she'd been saying, what she was thinking. Harry decided something was seriously wrong, and not just with the fact that she looked so physically ill. She was like a different person now, she didn't smile once, nor even look close to anything approaching being happy. He knew he was expecting too much, but he felt that she would have at least been a little happy to see him, he knew he had been waiting for the moment for so long, but she seemed so…distant. So _scared _of him, of everyone. 

He felt a hot surge of anger go through him as he thought about Firelight and the rest of them, they'd done something to her, they'd changed her. She was just another person on the list of lives they'd broken for no reason, leaving her the shadow of her former self. 

His sad thoughts eventually carried him into a fitful sleep as his brain tried to work out what they'd done to her, how exactly they'd changed her. But he was certain of one thing, Sirius was right…he couldn't imagine what she'd been through, and he didn't know now whether she would be ok at all. 

*

AN/ Hey y'all! Sorry about the delay…again. I have no excuses except for the words: coursework, college and mitching.

So, what do you think of the first proper meeting between the two? You have to know that personally I don't think it's very good, it was so SO hard to get the balance right between them, and I don't think I really pulled it off. But you tell me what you think…Yay or Nay?

Also any French people out there who can correct my appalling grammar and translations would be most grateful! Sorry to those who thought the story was going to fast, it slows down from now on!

Thanks to… **Heather, dementorchic, Mare, Bean, Esperanza, Preciousgirl** and **usakoesm** for all their wonderful reviews of my story! Especially Bean…feeling tired?


	6. Clocks

****

~*~*~ Chapter Five ~*~*~

Clocks

The next morning Harry was handed two things when he eventually went downstairs for breakfast. The first was a letter that Hedwig had delivered earlier, but the second was a copy of the Daily Prophet. Harry cast a curious look across to Sirius whose face looked unusually grim.

"Page 3," was all he said.

Harry felt his curiosity increasing and opened up the paper. There splashed across half the paper was a photo of himself and Sirius walking through the entrance hall of St Mungo's. The photo was quite grainy and Harry looked at in open-mouthed shock, noticing there was a large article underneath. Harry read it to himself, assuming the other two had already before he'd come down. 

__

Harry Potter was Catalina Firelight's first visitor since entering St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies a month and a half ago. Potter arrived during normal visiting hours yesterday afternoon this reporter can exclusively reveal. Wearing muggle clothing and a grim face Potter and his godfather, none other than recently released Sirius Black, were in the hospital for just over an hour.

Staff at the hospital have not commented on the rumours that Miss Firelight is now under 24 hour suicide watch after her own release from Azkabam and subsequent hospitalisation for what was described as 'Extreme exhaustion and viral infections'. Insiders have reliably informed this reporter that Miss Firelight is suffering from clinical depression and has reportedly attacked several of the staff in the hospital.

Potter, who left the hospital looking deeply troubled, has developed a close friendship with the heir of Gryffindor, which was recently well-publicised during Firelights trial for her involvement in the Riddle Manor Attack. However, this reported follows there blossoming romance with worry – should Mr. Potter be encouraged to relate with a girl whose own father is a Death Eater and who herself took part in many of the tortures during the Riddle Manor Attack, apparently under the effects of the Imperious Curse? Let us hope that his godfather does his job correctly, and tries and restrict Harry's access to such a dangerous and unstable influence. 

Harry threw the paper down, trembling with rage. Questions were running through his head so fast that he didn't know which one to ask first; what did they mean suicide watch? What did they mean attacking staff? And what was all that about 'apparently' being under the Imperious curse? She was, she'd been cleared – this article made it sound like there was a question about it.

He could do nothing but splutter in outrage and Remus and Sirius watched him worriedly. Harry took a shuddering breath.

"Who the hell wrote this crap!?" he spat vehemently.

"Language!" scolded Sirius, which Harry blatantly ignored.

"Was it that bloody Rita Skeeter again?" he said, picking the paper up and scanning the article for the authors name.

"No, her names Ruby Goldwing, she used to write the gossip column for Witch's Weekly," said Sirius, casting an eye over to Remus.

"Figures," laughed Harry bitterly, casting an eye over the article again, it was such an invasion of privacy, let alone a seriously huge pile of rubbish.

"How the hell does she know all this stuff?" asked Harry angrily, "How can she write all those lies?"

"There's no law against it Harry, freedom of speech and all that," said Remus heavily.

"That's rubbish! There should be some sort of law against lies and twisting everything!" said Harry furiously, "and who does she think she's kidding, suicide watch indeed!"

Harry laughed at the very idea, but quickly stopped when he saw the looks on Sirius's and Remus's face. They looked uneasy, as if Harry had just hit the nail of the head and he narrowed his eyes in suspicion at the two.

"What?" 

"Harry…maybe you ought to take note of a few of the things in that article," said Sirius uncomfortably, quailing under Harry's glare.

"Sirius, you _know _this…this woman doesn't even know anything about Catalina at all!" he said angrily.

"She knows more than you give her credit for," said Sirius, now fidgeting with extreme awkwardness, "the doctor at the hospital told me…"

Harry stared in disbelief, while in some corner of his mind things were beginning to fall into place. Dumbledore's letter, the guard at Catalina's door…why all the precautions if she was just getting over an illness, albeit a very serious one indeed? The more he thought about it, the more he began to understand and the more he didn't like. The reason she was so upset, the way she'd acted like she had at the meeting…it all made sense.

"But…she wouldn't do that," pleaded Harry weakly.

"Harry," began Sirius heavily, "depression is an illness as serious as any other, sometimes there comes a point when somebody just shuts down, and can't cope with what they've been through. Maybe, to her, it seems like the easiest option."

"But…it's not as easy as that…and she wouldn't, I know she wouldn't," tried Harry again, not sure he believed what he was saying.

"She's strong enough to make it this far; let's just hope she can stand the next few months," said Sirius with a kind smile.

There was an uncomfortable silence that filled the air around the breakfast table. And the two men went back to their breakfast, not quite sure if the conversation had finished. Meanwhile, Harry sat staring at the article feeling crushed. After everything that had happened, after everything they'd been through, everything they'd survived…she wouldn't just give up, would she? 

Harry was overcome by the panicked feeling, sure that she'd done something while he'd been away, and he desperately wished he could just check on her for a second, just to make sure she was ok. 

"Don't forget your mail Harry," said Remus, breaking Harry out of his thoughts.

`Harry looked at the letter blankly, completely forgetting he had actual post in light of recent events. It was a plain parchment envelope, with his name scrawled across the front in all too familiar handwriting.

__

To Harry,

Hey mate, how's the holiday going with Remus and Sirius? Has he let you go on his motorbike again yet? Just a quick letter to invite you around for the afternoon. Dads about as settled as he's going to be and mom wants to see how you are (really she's just checking that the bachelors haven't been keeping you on a diet of junkfood since you got back).

Take the floo over to ours at about 11 if you can. Don't expect any cheer here though, even the twins have been silent – it's awful. Ginny's locked herself up in her room all holiday, and I haven't even seen Charlie and Bill, they're out searching every day. I'm not giving up hope though, I know the idiots probably got himself lost in the forests nearby or something. He may be a good at writing reports, but he can't navigate to save his life.

See you later mate,

Ron.

Harry laid the letter on the table. More bad news, or so it felt. Ron's sad sounding thoughts over Percy were worrying him – did he really think they had any chance of finding him now? Harry knew it was pointless, but when he put himself in Ron's position he'd probably feel exactly the same. 

He was looking forward to seeing Ron again, the last day at term at Platform 9 and 3/4 seemed a lifetime ago, but he didn't know if he could stand to be in the Burrow after everything that had happened. But he needed to get away from here for the day, he needed to take the floo ride and leave his worry's about Catalina in the kitchen.

"It's from Ron, he want's me to visit this afternoon," said Harry.

"Is it ok with Mrs Weasley?" asked Sirius, looking up in concern.

"Yeah, it sounds like it. Can I go?"

"Sure, you'll need to take the floo station again though…" said Sirius before he was cut off by Remus.

"No need, we were reconnected yesterday," he said with a slightly sheepish grin, "Got a rather stern letter from the Department of Magical Transportation this morning."

"How convenient," muttered Harry, "so, can I go?"

"Sure, what time?"

"Eleven 'o' clock, so I've go half an hour," said Harry getting up.

"Are you not going to finish your breakfast?" he asked worriedly.

"Not hungry," was all Harry said before excusing himself from the table and going upstairs to get ready. 

He was ready within 10 minutes and spent the rest of the time sitting on his bed, anxiously counting down the minutes. He was looking forward to seeing all the Weasley's again, and worried as well. The last time he'd seen any of them was on the Hogwarts Express home and Harry recalled with a shudder how it had been the worst trip he'd ever experienced. He'd sat in a compartment with the twins, Ginny, Ron and Hermione and they must have said about two words to each other he whole way home.

Harry felt sorry for the twins the most. It had been there last year at Hogwarts, they should have been going out in a blaze of glory, but instead they were sat watching the scenery flash past intently. Hermione had been comforting Ginny, who'd been crying the whole way back and Ron had been playing a game of chess with Harry, and it was a sign at how distracted he was that Harry nearly beat him before he snapped out of it.

"Harry time to go!" came Sirius's voice up the stairwell.

Harry jumped up and grabbed his baseball cap before taking the stairs two at a time. All he seemed to be able to do in this house was think and worry and think and worry, he was looking forward to a change of scenery. In no time at al he was in front of the fireplace, ready and raring to go. With strict instructions from Sirius to be home by five, Harry stepped into the flames and was instantly transported to the Burrow.

*

He stumbled through the fireplace into the Burrow's kitchen, Sirius's instruction's still ringing in his ears. When he got his balance he looked around and saw Ron sitting on top of the wooden table with a small, albeit fixed, smile on his face.

"Hey mate, good trip?"

"Is it ever?" asked Harry dryly.

There was a slight silence and Harry looked around him, everything seemed a bit tidier in the Burrow household and quieter. He hadn't realised at first, but the usual background hubbub of the Burrow had disappeared, even the ghoul in the attic seemed to be unusually sedate. 

"So how's everything?" asked Harry, feeling instantly foolish.

"Ok I guess. Bill and Charlie are out today, mom's visiting Diagon Alley for supplies, Gin's upstairs in her room again and the twins are in theirs…Dad's in the celler," said Ron, sounding defeated and saddened.

"Oh, so he's well enough to be up and about? That's good news right?" said Harry hopefully.

"Yeah…" said Ron heavily, sliding off the table, "Yeah I suppose it is."

Harry frowned at Ron's strange behaviour and shifted slightly on his feet. So much for leaving his worries back at the Gatehouse with his uneaten breakfast. 

"Do you want to go and say hi?" asked Ron self-consciously.

"Definitely, lead the way."

Harry followed Ron through the kitchen, halting suddenly when Ron stopped dead in his tracks. He gave an angry sigh and bent down and picked something up off the floor. Harry squinted at it and saw it looked like some kind of little metal spoon or something. Ron however looked furious at it, and grabbed one of the kitchen chairs violently and slammed it on the floor where the 'spoon' had laid. 

"Someone's broken the bloody clock," Ron explained angrily, "Every time I put this thing on it keeps falling off!"

Harry watched Ron with a sinking stomach and he saw him trying to push the small metal rod onto the clock face, seeing now that it was actually a hand that had the words _Percy _engraved into it. Harry felt sick watching Ron trying to force the clock hand onto the dial, and after much battling finally succeeding. Harry watched him turn it to _Lost_.

Harry felt the leaden feeling in his stomach increase when, after Ron put the chair away and began to walk towards the cellar, there was a small tinkle of metal.

The clock hand had fallen off again.

Ron didn't even bother turning around, merely squared his shoulders and strode off down the corridor. They entered a small door, which Harry saw had 'Keep Out, Madman at Work' written on it with what looked like the twins comical script. 

Ron led Harry down the stairs, into a small stone lined room, absolutely full to the brim with bits and pieces of junk and metal. It looks like Remus's back garden, only less weeds and more pieces of muggle technology. 

Mr Weasley was hunched over a small workbench that was standing in front of a small display cabinet rammed full with what looked suspicious like electricity plug..

"Dad?" said Ron in an overly fake cheerful voice and they walked over to him, "I've brought you a visitor!"

Mr Weasley turned around and fixed Harry with a warm, albeit shocked smile. 

"James!" he said happily, " I haven't seen you for a while."

Harry stared at Mr Weasley, not really sure what to say to genially smiling figure. Ron however saved him the task and explained in a not too patient voice.

"Dad, this is Harry, _Harry Potter_…you know, James's son…"

"Oh," said Mr Weasley frowning slightly, before smiling brightly, "Of course it is, sorry about that Harry…you know, you look so much like your father, has he come to visit too?"

Ron glared at his dad in anger and Harry tried to force his mouth to stutter into action.

"No…no he hasn't Mr Weasley."

"Pity, say hello to him for me will you?" he said, smiling brightly.

Harry forced a smile while Ron tutted angrily behind him.

"Right we're going now!" he said quickly, grabbing Harry's arm and dragging him away and up the stairs while his father gave them a cheery wave goodbye.

Once they were back in the corridor above the garage Ron turned to Harry, tips of his ears going red with embarrassment.

"Sorry about that," he said avoiding Harry's eyes, "He's just a little bit confused…it's not really his fault."

"Don't worry about it," said Harry sadly, thinking back to Mr Weasley behaviour. 

It was so upsetting to see him in such a condition, and although Harry knew it could have been a lot worse, it still pained him to see him like that. Ron seemed positively mortified by his dads behaviour and quickly led Harry up the stairs towards his room. Halfway up they heard footsteps coming down the stairs and Harry looked up to see a tearful Ginny hurrying down. 

"Are you going downstairs Gin?" asked Ron as she passed him.

"No, actually I'm just going upstairs, this is just an illusion," she said scathingly.

"Fine, I was only asking," muttered Ron as she pushed pat both Ron and Harry and carried on downstairs.

"Well don't!" she called from the bottom of the stairwell.

"What's got into her?" asked Harry when she'd disappeared. 

"Who knows," he said with a shrug, "she's been like it all summer."

Finally they reached Ron's room and Harry looked around the familiar Chudley orange room, it didn't seem to change at all. Ron spread himself on the floor and Harry joined him.

"So, how's things with bachelor number one and two?" asked Ron, attempting to sound humorous.

"It's ok…a little strange living with an old professor. But they're both cool – let me stay up and watch tv and I get to eat all the junk food I like, they practically live off the stuff," said Harry while Ron laughed.

"What's his house like?" asked Ron conversationally.

"Smallish, right out in the moors. Bit cluttered as well, and I've kept myself out of the garden too, he's had an escapee."

"Escapee?" asked Ron curiously.

"Don't ask me what it is. Remus's had this whole shed full of different creatures and one of them's got loose into the jungle he calls a garden…"

"Sounds worrying…" laughed Ron half-heartedly.

"Yeah…" said Harry.

They lapsed into silence and Harry could hear every little sound around the house – not that there were that many. It seemed strange to think that the twins were in this house, because now it was a deadly silence that filled the air.

"How's Catalina?" asked Ron suddenly, taking Harry by surprise.

"Fine," said Harry brightly, then stopped at the look on Ron's face, "Not too good actually…I've been to visit her yesterday-"

"Yeah, I saw, page 3 wasn't it?" asked Ron, not a trace of jealousy, only pity.

"God," Harry said rolling his eyes expressively, "I just don't know what wrong with her…she was so upset, and just, just, just so _different_."

"Is it true what the article said?" asked Ron worriedly.

"About…?"

"About the 24 hour suicide watch," he said awkwardly.

Harry looked at Ron sharply for a few seconds, before his features softened and he gave a small nod. Ron let out a long whistle and leant back against the wall.

"That bad huh?"

"You should have seen her yesterday. She just looked dead, completely cut off from everything around her…but whenever people come near her – she just goes crazy. This one doctor was trying to change a dressing on her arm, and when they lifted up her sleeves and saw the, _you know_, she just went mad. Screaming and shouting and crying…I've never seen her like that."

Ron looked positively sick at the news and there was another silence, popular these days. 

"What do you think they did to her?" asked Ron in a faraway voice, "To make her be so afraid of people touching her?"

Harry shuddered as he pondered the question, but every answer he came up with made his stomach turn. In some ways he wanted to know, so he could tell her it was all ok, and in other ways…he really didn't want to – too scared of what he might find out. No wonder she was going crazy, the very thought of the possibilities were enough to make Harry's head hurt.

"Do you think it was the Dark Mark?" asked Ron, derailing Harry's train of thought, "I suppose when they forced it on her…"

"I don't know…I really don't. Hopefully she'll be ok and will come back to Hogwarts with us," said Harry with a grim smile.

"I wouldn't like to be in her position when she does. You remember how everyone treated us when we came back, and the rumours that were flying around the place. Dean told me he'd heard Lavender saying that she'd ask to move houses if Catalina came back to their dorm…" said Ron, with anger crossing his features, "I don't think she'd be in any fit state to stand up to anyone."

As much as Harry hated to admit it, Ron was right. Everyone did have negative thoughts towards her at Hogwarts. Student gossip never let anything as little as the truth get in the way of a good tale. 

"I suppose only time will tell," said Ron, rather wisely in Harry's opinion, pulling out a chessboard and setting it up.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," said Harry, settling himself down for another humiliating defeat.

As usual the time at the Burrow went quickly, and Harry said hello to Mrs Weasley when she returned from her shopping. The entire family had dinner that evening at the large wooden table, but it was the most strained and sombre occasion Harry could remember. It was like everyone was there in the body, but their minds were somewhere else. 

The meal was eaten in silence, with only occasional bits of conversation that were strained or quickly dismissed. Everyone seemed devastated by Percy's disappearance, not least of all Mrs Weasley who looked very thin and drawn. Harry had got used to her warm smile and usually sunny disposition, but now…now she was just a shadow of her former self. Quiet, reserved, pale...

"How are you enjoying living with Mr Lupin?" she asked while they were eating pudding, breaking the loud silence.

"Yeah, it's ok…" said Harry, not knowing what else to say.

Then they lapsed back into silence and Harry moodily pushed his food around his plate, dark thoughts taking up every available space in his head. 

"Jane, can you pass the, er …mash potatoes!" said Mr Weasley, looking confused and delighted all at once.

Ginny glared at her father, but merely handed over the bowl. More silence. Harry could hardly take it, it seemed to be pressing down on them all, choking them. Ginny seemed to be fuming quietly in her corner, glaring at everyone, not least of all Harry and he could see her working herself up into a quiet rage. 

"Diagon Alley was busy today," said Mrs Weasley, in a futile attempt to get conversation started, !I saw a nice little shop you boys might be interested."

Fred and George looked at each other and shrugged lazily, as if they didn't really care. Harry was speechless, how long had the twins wanted to open their own jokeshop? And now, when Mrs Weasley finally suggested they could do it, they didn't care. Although Harry knew why they were so uninterested really, he couldn't help but feel slightly saddened…the twins were the kind of people you should rely on in a crisis, to make everyone feel better, and now they were as bad as everyone else. Harry saw Ginny cast a disgusted glare at the twins before suddenly she shouted out angrily, taking everyone by surprise.

"Look at you," she said angrily, "Pretending everything's ok when you know perfectly well that it is NOT!"

Everybody flinched at Ginny's harsh words and Harry felt more that a little embarrassed to be witnessing a family row.

"Ginny," said her mother calmly, "the only way were all going to get through this is if we stick together as a family, and try and concentrate on the future."

"Oh right! Ok! I suppose that's ok, we'll all join together as a family and make it all better! But wait…" she said pausing with mock thought, her silence breaking up her angry rant, "I forgot we're not a family anymore are we? Because family's would tell each other when they were about to run off and try to be hero's duelling dark wizards! Family's would tell each other that it might be the last time they ever saw their brother…FAMILY'S would tell each other!"

"Oh little girl, we would have told you," said Arthur kindly, "but it was a secret."

"GINNY!" screamed suddenly, "My name is Ginny! Not little girl, not Jane, not Jennifer! GINNY! How can you not remember my name? I'm your daughter!"

The rest of the family sat in shocked silence around the table and Ginny sat breathing heavily, before snorting in disgust and jumping up and running out the room, her chair cracking to the floor with a resounding bang. Everyone listened to the footsteps run through the house before her door slammed shut.

"I knew the little girls name was Jenny," said Mr Weasley in a troubled voice. 

Harry kept his eyes carefully on his plate and noticed Ron putting his head in his hands wearily. He couldn't stand the tension that was crackling in the air and it was almost a relief when dinner was over and he and Ron practically bolted to the living room. After a few minutes of silence Ron surprised Harry by talking.

"Sorry about that…I think she's taking Percy's disappearance the worst…she didn't know about the Order of the Phoenix and it's not helping by having dad calling her every name under the sun apart from her own."

"Don't worry, I understand."

Time to leave was drawing near and Harry decided to spend the last few minutes trying to talk about normal things. 

"How's Hermione?" asked Harry.

"Fine, she's abroad at the moment, brushing up on her French…soon she'll be able to hold conversations with Catalina…imagine the havoc they'd cause being able to secretly communicate!" he said despairingly.

"Yeah, they'd have a right laugh…" said Harry unenthusiastically.

Somehow he doubted he'd ever even see Catalina within the grounds of Hogwarts again, let alone associate to words 'laughing' with her. It just seemed like an impossible dream.

"You two still getting on ok?" asked Harry casually.

"Fine, why'd you ask?" asked Ron defensively, while Harry noted with a secret smile that the tips of his ears were going red.

"No reason," he said innocently.

"Yeah right…I'd ask if you and Catalina were still getting on, but that's a bit of a stupid question," said Ron with a smirk.

Harry glared at him in mock-anger and smacked him upside the head. For a moment it almost felt like old times.

"Your love life sucks mate," he said genially, adding insult to injury.

"Hey!" protested Harry, "Me and Catalina are just friends Ron, that's all."

"Riiiight," said Ron with an exaggerated wink, "And I'm the Queen of Sheba."

"Well _your majesty,_ that's right," said Harry defensively, almost telling the truth.

Just because he 'liked' (god, how embarrassing does that word sound, he thought) Catalina, he severely doubted they'd be anything more than friends now, even if he wanted too. No, he'd just have to live his life feeling the way he did. Meanwhile Ron merely rolled his eyes and glanced up at the clock. It was a quarter to five and Harry sighed heavily.

"I suppose I better go in a sec," he said, "good to see you again mate, say goodbye to the family for me."

"Sure, if they ever come out of the woodwork…"

"And maybe I'll return the favour one day, and you can come and visit me for the day?" said Harry.

"Well there's a turn up for the books," laughed Ron, leading Harry towards the grate.

A few seconds later the fireplace was filled with flames, and a few seconds later by the body of an extremely apprehensive 16 year old. With a final wave to Ron, Harry disappeared in a cloud of ash and soot, reappearing seconds later in the living room to the Burrow, feeling slightly sea-sick or whatever it was that happened to him after every ride. 

Sirius was waiting for him on the couch and gave him a smile.

"Have a good day?"

"Yeah, I suppose so," said Harry half-heartedly.

"How's Arthur?"

"OK I suppose…just a bit confused. He kept calling me James and when he found out who I was, asked if my dad was around as well…" said Harry with a bitter laugh.

"It'll pass with time," said Sirius hopefully.

"I hope so," said Harry forcefully.

*

AN/ And there you go for that chapter…so you've said hello to the Weasley's again, sorry to all those who wanted Arthur to be completely better, this may be fantasy genre, but its not a fairytale L 

Just a note before I sign off, did anyone else see the artwork for the front cover of Harry Potter Five (out on June 21st), not giving much away was it? Just a picture of a phoenix rising from the ashes, not very helpful, but a nice teaser.

Thank you to…**Mare,** **Riser155, Heather, Esperanza **and **Death-Demon Xero **for your reviews! Its always nice to hear what you guys think of the story!


	7. Virus

****

AN/ I'd just like to say that this story is dedicated to my cousin, who is fighting over in Iraq at the moment - come home safe, we miss you like crazy,

Love Natalie xxx

~*~*~ Chapter Six ~*~*~

Virus 

__

Dear Harry,

Hello! Or should I say bonjour? Do you realise how hard it is to find a decent international post owl in this place? The area of France I'm in still seem to be living in the stone age so forgive me if this letter is a little belated.

I hope you had a good birthday, and that everything is ok on your side of the English Channel. I've been keeping in touch with Ron and he doesn't seem to be holding up that well does he? It's not really what he is writing, it's what he isn't and I'm seriously worried about them all. He's been keeping me up to date with the situation with Catalina. I saw the Daily Prophet article, and once you read through the usual journalistic garbage there were some worrying things she said…is she really as depressed as they say she is?

As soon as I get back me you and Ron are all going to visit her, let her know who her real friends are. We need to get her ready for Hogwarts don't we? I do hope she'll come back, the place won't be he same without her and I'm sure you won't be either. 

I'll be back in England on Wednesday night, so I shall write then. Give my love to Catalina if you see her before then, and please write back with the news…I feel really cut off over here!

Au Revoir!

Love Hermione.

Harry put the letter into his pocket, and slung his backpack over his shoulder. It was two days since he'd been to Ron's house and he was finally going to see Catalina again. The newspaper had been relatively quiet about her, but a few of the glossy magazines had picked up her story and seemed to fall into two categories; stories about a the defenceless girl used by the forces of evil unwillingly, and the Death Eaters daughter who had managed to con her way out of prison. 

Either way, Harry wished he didn't have to read them. However, Hermione's mail had been unexpected and her usual style, and mixture of naivety and perceptive reasoning. He was going to write back as soon as he got it, but decided to see what happened today first. 

Soon he was stepping into the flames and being greeted by a sudden rush of emotions from Catalina – the usual saddnes with a tinge of worry as well. He walked out of Newcastle Station, and strode across the streets of Diagon Alley's sister street Tyne Way. He kept a secret eye on the area, looking out for more journalists, but saw none and was soon within the walls of the whitewashed hospital. Sirius was accompanying him as Remus prepared for his exam that was just one week away and again called at the reception, where the same nurse was sitting, looking no less harassed.

As soon as she saw Sirius she began to look even more flushed and began to tidy papers self-consciously. Harry merely rolled his eyes and made his way down towards the room where Catalina was staying. A few seconds later he was joined by Sirius and Dr Rahn, who was bringing Sirius up to date, while Harry stared at Catalina.

Her skin was still pale and even had the yellowy tinge he saw in the Courtroom, and the ever-present black bags under her eyes were even more pronounced. Far from looking any better, she looked even worse than the first day.

"She contracted a virus and has been a bit ill for the past few days. She had some kind of allergic reaction to the antidote, so she's just riding this one out," explained Dr Rahn after he greeted Harry.

"Is she going to be ok?" asked Harry, the ever-present question on his tongue.

"She'll on the tail end of it now, a couple more days and she'll be back on the road to recovery. But I daresay it'll take a lot of time, she's had a bit of a week."

"Why?" asked Sirius sharply, "What's happened?"

"Maybe you should come into my office first," said Dr Rahn ominously leading them away from the room.

After a few minutes they were all settled and Dr Rahn pulled out his file, pulling out a few pieces of paper.

"The media's been making our lives hell. Apparently all the country are desperate to know how their latest piece of gossip is doing. We've had to kick out three reporters posing as doctors this week already."

"Can they do that?" asked Sirius sharply.

"In a word no. Somehow they're getting information about her…And its things we'd rather keep out of the press. You will know shortly, if you don't already, that Mary Firelight has been admitted into the hospital last night. She has not been coping very well with the recent situation and neither has Catalina when she heard the news…"

Harry flinched visibly at the reaction he expected Catalina to have at that news, it wasn't going to be helping her case any if her mother got ill, and if, god forbid, anything else happened. 

"Will she be ok?" asked Sirius.

"Time will tell," shrugged the doctor – Harry didn't like the sound of that at all.

"Anyway, this coupled with the virus has meant she's not been very well at all this week. She's still keeping up with her language-a-day game, although I did notice while you were here last time she spoke to you in English? What did you talk about? Did she say anything useful to us?" asked the doctor curiously.

"Not really," said Harry self consciously, "Just that she was feeling…well depressed, she blames herself for everything."

"Hmm, I thought as much. Well its Afrikaans today, maybe you could ask her a few questions casually for me, how she's doing, if she has any pain anywhere, that sort of thing?"

"Sure," said Harry unsteadily, already climbing to his feet.

"One moment, we need to disinfect you before you go in," said Dr Rahn pulling out his wand, "_Purifico._"

Harry nodded and walked towards the room, carefully pushing open the door and stepping in.

This time Catalina was sitting up in her bed, watching the door like a hawk as if she were waiting for someone to enter. Harry shut the door and leant against it warily, while Catalina watched him through deeply ringed eyes. He prayed and prayed that she would be better today, even after everything that was happening. 

"I heard you coming," she said croakily.

"There goes my surprise," said Harry with a cracked grin.

She didn't respond.

"Can I come in?" he asked unsteadily.

"Would I be able to stop you if I said no?" she said monotonously, and he smiled slightly. 

Harry walked further into the room and pulled the chair over to her bed as he had last time. He busied himself pulling his backpack off his back and rooting around in it's contents while he felt Catalina sit sorrowfully, yet slightly curious.

"I thought you might like something to do while you're in here, so I brought you some things…" said Harry trailing off under her morose stare. 

"So…" he said hastily, diving into his bag and pulling out some magazines, "I got you some stuff to read, I don't really know what teenage witch's read but I saw these in the station and thought…you know, it's something."

Harry held out the magazines for her, but instead of taking them she raised a hand to her throat hurriedly.

"I don't feel very well," she said in a sudden panicked voice as she screwed her eyes tightly, "I'm going to throw up!"

Harry jumped up hastily, picking up the bowl from under her bed and shoving it into her lap, as she was presently violently sick. Harry grimaced and looked away as she retched. After a few seconds, Harry turned around and saw her shakily wiping her mouth, looking sweaty and yellow all at once. 

"Are you ok?" asked Harry worriedly.

She shook her head groggily and Harry reached out to wipe the hair from around her face that was now sweaty and messed up. This time there was no electric shock, Catalina merely gave a horrible shudder as if the very presence of Harry was making her feel sick. 

Harry felt more hurt by this than the previous attempt and dropped his hand to the side. He turned around and busied himself pouring her a glass of water as she shuffled across the other side of the bed. 

"Here," he said, handing her the glass unceremoniously, "I'll go get the doctor."

She didn't say anything and a few minutes he was on the other side of the glass watching the now horribly familiar scene of Catalina fighting with the staff, and he frowned deeply. Something had happened in that manor he didn't know about, something that had affected Catalina so much, traumatised her so much…and it wasn't what Harry had seen.

He watched with his forehead against the glass and raised a shaky hand to the cool window. Sirius was standing next to him, watching the unfolding scene with a blank face.

"She hates me Sirius," said Harry unhappily.

"She doesn't Harry, you know she doesn't."

"She does. She can't even stand me being around her anymore, she won't even let me go near her!" Harry said in such as tortured voice that Sirius turned to him a put a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"It's not you ok? She's just…sick," he said heavily.

"It's not her virus," said Harry quietly.

"Not that kind of sick…she's sick in her head. There's nothing you can do about it except try and be there for her if she comes out the other side."

Harry didn't miss the blatant use of _if _that had now come into the conversations, even Sirius was giving up hope. Harry felt stupid for ever believing that things could be simple. Mr Weasley, Percy, Catalina, the media…everything was just getting on top of him.

'Can't you just give me a break?' Harry silently begged, looking up to the ceiling in desperation, 'Please, just give us all a break.'

*

"Take two," muttered Harry pushing the door to her room open again. 

Catalina had clean bedsheet's, a new bowl, and new jug of water and was looking slightly more alive that previously. Harry tried to pretend that everything was normal, as if he were just visiting her in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing. He sat on the chair in front of her bed, and picked up his backpack again.

"Feeling any better?" he asked, hugging the bag tightly.

She nodded her head, her eyes tightly closed and her head back in her pillow. Harry decided to carry on and picked up one of the magazines.

"I thought you could maybe read these when you didn't have any visitors…they're a little bit girlie, the sort of thing Lavender would read, but you know…it's something," said Harry awkwardly.

"Thank you," she said in a forceful voice.

Harry looked at her curiously, "It's alright, Sirius gave me the money for them really."

"No…not for that," she said, struggling against tears that had inexplicably sprung to her eyes, "for standing by me, after everything I did to you."

"It wasn't your fault," said Harry quietly, "Even if you might think it."

She sighed heavily, and locked him with a searching stare, her black eyes looking unfamiliar yet strangely enticing to him – they were so black you couldn't even see the pupils unless you looked really closely.

"The sooner you accept that," he said warily, "The sooner you can begin to get better and get out of there."

"How can anything ever be better after this? How can we possibly go back to being how we were after what we did, after what _he_ did, after what they all did?" she asked him tearfully, looking at him imploringly as if his answer was all she was looking for and would believe.

"I don't know," admitted Harry despondently, "But I promise I'll do anything it takes ok? We all will, Hermione and Ron are going to come and visit as soon as you're a bit better."

"They're coming too?" she asked, almost surprised.

"Of course they are. Hermione sent her love, and you know Ron he would as well if he didn't have so much on at the moment," said Harry with another heavy sigh.

Catalina looked confused, she didn't know what happened after the Order attack so she didn't even know about Percy or Mr Weasley, and Harry thought it best to leave it like that. But at the same time as feeling so much weight on his shoulders, Harry felt slightly happy deep down inside, Catalina was actually holding a conversation with him, and she was going mental or crying – yet. If only he could just keep this up…

"Have you decided what you're going to do when you get out of here?" asked Harry hesitantly, picking absentmindedly at the frayed edge of the bedspread. 

"I don't know," she said faintly, gazing off into the distance, "what do you think I should do?"

"Come back to Hogwarts," Harry said desperately, leaning on the edge of the bed, "Come back when you're better…stay in England."

"I don't know if it's safe to do that Harry," she whispered, looking into his eyes woefully, "If I do that, he'll know where I am, he'll to find me…make me finish what I started"

"What he started," said Harry forcefully, "and you remember that."

Catalina nodded weakly and struggled against the tears in her eyes while Harry watched her curiously. She was so different than when she was with other people. He'd seen her when the staff were in the room, she never spoke English, why was it so different now? Why was he different? 

He hoped it was because they were friends and because he felt nervous and excited every time he came to see her, how even when she was this ill and this bad, he still liked being around her. Harry's thought drifted back to that time they were up in the astronomy tower, and he had told her how he felt. She hadn't said anything, she'd run away, but he hoped she felt the same, and deep down he thought that maybe she did. But that was then…and this was now.

"When they find me-" she began.

"If," interjected Harry.

"No _when_ they find me, because it will happen, you know it will. And when that happens, they'll kill me, or use me to get to you again – and I won't be able to do anything to stop it…" she said, choking on her sobs.

"Catalina," said Harry leaning towards her, "you stopped it last time, you'll stop it again. And your not going to be alone if it happens again ok? We'll be there…I'll be there."

Catalina squeezed her eyes shut tightly but nodded her head. Harry felt sufficiently daring to reach out and stroke her hair again, although he didn't think he had any control over his hand anyway. Again there was no electric shock, or whatever it was, but she responded the same way, giving a huge shudder and flinching away from his hand. He could feel her fear and disgust at it.

"Please don't do that," she moaned, shrinking away from his hand.

"Sorry," said Harry, pulling his hand away and blushing brightly.

Harry sat back in his chair as he watched her hugging herself tightly, then pulling the sleeve of her robe down again. Harry had noticed her doing that a lot, and he knew why, but it almost seemed like some kind of obsessive behaviour, she didn't even realise she was doing it. Tugging her sleeve to hide her dark mark had become almost as natural as breathing to her, and it was just another symptom of her time in the manor. Another symptom Harry wanted to get rid of. 

"I'm tired. I'm going to sleep now," said Catalina, turning over and pulling her blankets up.

"Ok," said Harry blankly, taken by surprise, "Are you feeling ok? Do you want me to get the doctor?"

"No, just go," came her muffled voice.

Harry frowned, but got up anyway, he hated the way he always left her, it was always on her terms, when she'd had enough of him or something. But he wasn't going to argue, and merely walked across to the door.

"I'll visit you soon, do you want me to bring you anything?" he asked.

"No."

"Bye," said Harry hopefully.

"Goodbye Harry," she said faintly. 

Harry didn't like the way she said it at all, there was something in her tone, some sort of finality he didn't want to hear. He sidled out of the room anyway, and looked around for Sirius who was chatting to the nurse at the desk down the corridor. 

Harry turned and looked at Catalina for a few moments before deciding to leave.

"Poor girl," came a voice behind him.

Harry turned around to see an old woman, hunched over a mop looking through the window as well. Her misty eyes turned to Harry, and showed no sign of recognition at all – for which Harry was eternally grateful.

"Sorry?"

"Such a sad story…poor girl," she said in an old, weary voice, "It runs in the family you know."

"What does?" asked Harry curiously.

"The Curse of the Firelights they call it," she said, as if not listening to Harry at all, "They've all met nasty ends, the lot of them. Always being killed in some war or another, always dying alone and unloved, always getting themselves into trouble…This ones no different either – got mixed up with the wrong crowd and now look what's happened to her."

"I don't really think it was like that," said Harry hesitantly, as the old woman shook her head and laughed.

"Ah, don't give me that," said the woman in a no-nonsense tone, "You can't tell me with someone of her abnormal abilities and _background_ wouldn't be involved in them lot somehow…"

"Yes, I can actually," said Harry, angry now, "She was tricked, and if you read any of the papers, you'd know that."

"I don't trust the media," said the woman brusquely, "I only go on what I see, and what I see here is a girl whose been led off the tracks, and's gone too far now – no one wants her here now…she can follow him for all I care."

Harry glared at the woman, and looked over to Sirius, deciding he didn't much care for this woman's conversation.

"I don't think you should talk about things that don't concern you," said Harry bitterly, "and her friends want her here. So before you go making accusations, why don't you get yours facts straight?"

Harry gave the woman one last look, then walked off down the corridor, angrily. It was just another demonstration about how _stupid _people really were. Harry prayed to god that Catalina would be strong enough to deal with those kind of people when she came out.

Harry reached the desk where Sirius was and watched him openly flirting with the woman, who was giggling at one of his jokes. Harry trolled his eyes in disgust, it was bad enough watching him eyeing up the woman in the street, but having to actually listen to him as well? Harry gave a non-to-subtle cough and Sirius turned around with a smile.

"All ready to go?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Harry, shifting his backpack and looking back for the cleaning lady, who'd now disappeared. 

"Well off we go then, I'll see you around Janey," he said with a sly wink, as the woman smiled and watched them leave.

"You're unbelievable," said Harry dryly when they got outside.

"Why?" asked Sirius with a grin, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Never mind," said Harry with a small laugh, sometimes he marvelled how much his godfather resembled his animagus form – slobbering and trailing woman like some lovesick puppy.

"Everything ok with Catalina?" asked Sirius a few minutes later and they walked towards the floo station.

"It could have been worse," said Harry with a shrug.

They entered the huge building and were greeted by the usual hubbub of the busy station and Harry spent a few moments watching the people go to and fro as Sirius bought some powder. There was a huge group of foreign teenagers taking up most of the floor in the corner of the building, sprawled across the floor on their bags. They were chatting in their own tongue and Harry couldn't understand a word of it, but they seemed to be having a good time, they were pointing to various people and laughing. 

He sensibly hid from their gaze and looked at their bizarre clothes – not muggle but not magical either. They seemed to be dressed in strange combinations of billowy skirts and small tops, or hugely baggy jeans and shirts. He wondered where they were from, they sounded Eastern European, maybe they were Russian? Sirius presently returned with their tickets and Harry followed him towards the floo room. Their was a sudden announcement over the hubbub that the "2.30 portkey to Veliko Tărnova has been delayed for approximately 1 hour." 

The crowd of bizarrely dressed teenagers gave a group shout of disbelief and began waving their fists at the desk, while the person behind it tried to hide their head in embarrassment. As they walked past the group Harry heard them talking furiously between each other, and while not understanding a bit of it he guessed from the tone they weren't being to kind.

Soon they were in the floo room, and stepping into the grate, appearing in the Gatehouse moments later.

*

Harry didn't have to wait long at all to read abut his latest trip to the outside world, it was in the next day's Daily Prophet article including a new photo of a furious looking Harry standing in the Hospital's corridor and _quotes?_ Harry could maybe see how they might possibly get a photo if they were careful – but how the hell did they get quotes? Sirius had woken him up by chucking the paper on top of his head the next morning and he knew with a sinking heart what it would be before Sirius told him.

"Page 5 this time," was all he said as he strode back out of the room.

Harry grudgingly picked up his glasses and peered down at the paper with sleep blurred eyes, desperately trying to focus. The front page had some vague pictures of some ministry member or another talking about Fudge so Harry ignored it and jumped right forward to his latest 'outing'.

__

For the second time in as many weeks Harry Potter has been to visit Catalina Firelight, who shot from celebrity status to infamy over the summer after her involvement with the Dark Side in the Riddle Manor Attack. Insiders have informed us that the Boy-Who-lived had been to check up on recent accounts of her illness, which seemed to have taken a nosedive this week under suspicious circumstances. It seems Miss Firelight is having a violent reaction to something she took in the past few days, but is recovering well according to doctors.

Harry had to pause here and throw down the paper in disgust, it made it sound like she'd tried to top herself! Harry couldn't contain his anger and let out a groan of frustration – all she'd done was have a reaction against the medicine, and now the whole country are going to think she's tried to kill herself! He forced himself to be calm ad picked up the newspaper again roughly, knuckles going white as he read on with an ominous feeling.

__

Mr Potter is said to be hopeful for her recovery and dismissed rumours of a massive resistance movement to her return to Hogwarts, telling us that she was very much wanted in Hogwarts this coming term. It has been over two months since she was admitted to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies, and since then she has only ever had two visitors, Mr Potter and her own mother who is herself taking up a bed in the west wing after reports of a stress related illness reached this roving reporters ears. While Catalina Firelight increases in strength every day, it seems her mothers is failing and that Catalina may have to take up residency in her estranged grandparents home in Eire who she has not had contact with for over 20- years.

Harry really did drop the paper in shock at this point – Catalina had family? In Britain? He mouthed silently as he marvelled at this, she'd never told him she had other relatives. Although, when Harry came to think about it he had a rather narrow minded view, it wasn't that strange a thing to happen, surely most people had loads of relatives dotted around. When he actually came to think about it, he was surprised she didn't have more than just her grandparents – where were her uncles and aunts and cousins? He knew Ron's family tree looked like the Whomping Willow gone mad and even Hermione had told him about her younger cousins and favourite aunts.

Harry filed away this information and picked up the paper again, eager to read more.

__

Apparently the small families relationship broke apart after their daughter, Mary Firelight nee Cotard married Charles Firelight, the then sole heir to the Gryffindor heritage. Apparently the family disapproved of Mary's choice in husband which culminated in a huge row. The family has not been in touch for some time and the grandparents have never seen or met their third granddaughter. 

Catalina is expected to spend another half of a month in hospital before she is fit to be released and take up her place in the sixth year of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 

Harry laid the paper onto the bed and looked at the ceiling for some time – so the Cotard's didn't approve of Firelight and ended up not speaking for 20 years? Harry thought that was unbelievable, but he was more interested in the fact that Catalina had two cousins…

Obviously they didn't go to Hogwarts, but if they lived in Eire he supposed they went to the school in Southern Ireland, that would certainly explain the lack of Cotard's running around the country. But the thing he was most surprised about in the article was the fact that Catalina would be coming out in half a months time, just over two weeks! He didn't think she was ready at all, but he supposed once her illness was cured, they didn't need to keep her in any longer. As much as Harry wanted to protect her from going back into the outside world, he couldn't.

"Harry! Boots on now! Remus has lost another one!" came Sirius's voice up the stairwell suddenly.

Harry jumped up, threw on some trousers and a baggy jumper, ramming on his boots and darting down the stairs. Remus had been keeping and family of Clabbert's in 'The Shed', and almost every time he went in their one got out…which usually meant that the forces had to rally to capture them before they wandered off into Muggle Princetown.

Clabbert's were small tree-dwelling creatures that looked like a cross between a monkey and a frog. They're smooth and hairless and have such long supple arms and legs that from the moment they're outside they immediately head for the trees. Harry had spent the third day he was here trying to pin down a particularly mischievous one that had found the oak trees near the stream at the bottom of Remus's garden. And another interesting note about the Clabbert's – they had _very _sharp teeth, Harry didn't think he'd ever get rid of the scar.

He got outside and found Sirius shimmying up the side of one oak tree effortlessly, swinging from branch to branch as if he were related to the Clabbert in some way. Remus's was shouting directions, and Harry had to squint to see the flashing scarlet light coming from the top most branches. 

As Remus had informed him when he had the first escapee, Clabbert have this huge spot on their head that starts flashing red when its in danger, which was almost always.

"Left a bit, three branches up…he's hiding behind the bird box!" shouted Remus loudly before adding to Harry in his professor voice, "you know Harry, the International Confederation for Wizards have introduced heavy fines on keeping these animals…yes, muggles used to wonder why magical families still had their Christmas lights up in June, when really they were just using the Clabberts as muggle detectors. NO THE NEXT BRANCH!"

"You go up the other side Harry," said Remus, while Harry obliged.

He'd always been good at climbing trees, you needed to be to get out of the way of Ripper the Bulldog from hell that Aunt Marge used to terrorise him with. So in no time Harry was up the branch again Sirius was waving him over in the right direction. 

In a few moments there was a yelp from Sirius that told him he'd caught the creature…it had an unfortunate habit of locking it jaws when it bit you, so once bitten if was pretty hard to get the thing off and it was as good as caught.

"Sodding animal," hissed Sirius as they tramped towards The Shed. 

In one deft movement they were inside and the door was shut firmly, and the noise that greeted them made Harry raise his hands to his ears. It really was some sort of St Mungo's for animals, and bigger version of the pet shop in Diagon Alley. Remus had charmed it to make it bigger on the inside than on the out and the walls were lined with huge cages, perches, ponds and various other habitats. 

Harry looked around curiously as the two tried to unclamp the Clabbert from Sirius's hand. The ponds were the best – full of these little silver fish Remus had once told him where called Ramora's, but there was another cage Harry didn't approach often but was standing in front of now.

It was a large cage full of plants a foliage but in the middle sat a Runespoor – a three headed snake that was around 3 ft long and vivid orange and black. As he approached he could hear the constant stream of the right head's critique of the other two, who were hissing at him angrily. Remus had been given him by an African wizard who hadn't realised it had sneaked into his baggage when he came to country, and had told Harry each head had a different purpose – the planner, the decider and the dreamer.

"You two aren't going over _there _are you?" said Right scathingly, "It's much nicer over _here_."

"I think maybe we should go over here," said Middle calmly, trying to pull the body away again.

"One day, we could get out of here all together," said Left dreamily, and the other two stopped talking and looked at him before what could only be described as laughing.

"Hey guys," said Harry, leaning down and looking into the cage.

"Oh God," said Right, rolling his little red eyes, "The speakers back again."

Harry glared at the snakes, and decided he'd rather not talk to them today. He walked away just in time to catch Middle hissing to the other two, 

"Thank god, we don't have to listen to him again…depressing sod."

*

AN/ Hey all, God only knows why that bit is in at the end…suppose I wanted to show you a bit of wildlife - all info taken out of the book _Fantastic beasts and where to find them._

Thank you for all your reviews, this means YOU **Heather, Riser155, Preciousgirl, tokfia, Esperanza **and** Mare**… And especially to **Preciousgirl** who gave me this link for the American front cover for Harry Potter V, much more interesting than the British! , 


	8. The Saviour

****

~*~*~ Chapter Seven ~*~*~

The Saviour

__

Dear Harry,

How are the holidays going? I hope you had a good birthday, and I'm looking forward to seeing you guys when term begins. I've got some beautiful creatures for next years lessons, I'm not saying anything just yet…I'm waiting for them to hatch out as we speak, hopefully there'll be enough for the class.

Nothing much to report from my end, I'm leaving the country for a month again on a special mission from Dumbledore, again, I can't say anything much. Ron's keeping Cupio again for me, I hoped it would cheer him up a bit since he must be having a terrible summer – it looks like everyone is.

Give my regards to Professor Lupin and Sirius for me, and not forgetting Catalina of course, I'll see you at Hogsmeade train station.

From Hagrid

Harry laid down the letter with a frown. He didn't like the sounds of these new creatures, especially the bit about them 'hatching out'. He figured out he was going to the giants again, god knows they needed the help now. However, Harry was worried for his friends safety, Voldemort and the rest of the Death Eaters seemed to have fled the country after the attack – even Malfoy was missing apparently 'away on business'. He didn't want Hagrid running into Firelight or the rest of them wherever he was. He guessed the giants must live in mountains or forests to hide from people, so maybe they were in the Alps somewhere.

Harry pulled on some clothes and headed downstairs to find Remus and Sirius arguing in the kitchen – or at least Sirius was arguing, Remus was merely nodding in a calm way that seemed to be infuriating Sirius even more. 

"I happen to be 36 years old Moony! I think I'm old enough to know who to trust!" said Sirius childishly, arms crossing his chest.

"I didn't say you weren't old enough to know wrong from right Padfoot," said Remus mildly, "I merely said, you should be careful these days."

"Hey guys," said Harry, walking past them into the kitchen.

"Hello Harry," said Remus happily, while Sirius scowled, "breakfasts on the table, newspapers on the counter – I suggest you take a look at it."

Harry raised a questioning eyebrow and walked past the two and took a look at what was offer for breakfast. There was some kind of muggle cereal which looked like it had a bag of sugar per spoonful – such was the quantity of bright colours, marshmallow pieces and sprinkles the box portrayed. Harry wrinkled his nose up at the 'food', he couldn't understand how those two could survive on a diet of pure fat and sugar – it was unhealthy – even Ron would get sick of this much junkfood, and that was saying something.

He plumped for a few slices of toast and began to chew on them slowly before picking up the newspaper, when he saw the title he nearly choked on his food. There is huge bold letters splashed across the front page was the headline, 

****

SAVOIR THE SAVIOUR!

Minister Fudge's up for the last time!

__

Fudge steps down in face of overwhelming public opposition!

Harry read the article open mouthed. It seemed Fudge has been almost literally kicked out of office when the Ministry of Magic met in a late meeting last night to discuss reports of apparent Dark Mark sightings across Europe. It had ended in a huge row and Minister Fudge had been given a vote of no-confidence by his own cabinet and thrown out, to be replaced by none other than Joseph Savoir, Supreme Judge in the Council of Magical Law.

Harry had thought as much, Remus had foretold it weeks ago, but it was still a huge shock, apparently the whole ministry was in a mess, Ministers dropping out of their posts and fleeing the country. Harry read how the Minister himself had taken an overnight portkey to a secret location in France, where he was in hiding.

It was unbelievable – real history in the making. Apparently Savoir stepped in at the eleventh hour when the ministry threatened to dissolve. Harry sat back in disbelief – it had been a long time coming and he personally couldn't believe that Fudge had lasted that long, but now it had actually happened it all seemed more real. The pages of the Daily Prophet were taken up with angry comments of every possible minister who all wanted their own say and it seemed most of them would be at the ministry setting up the new plan of action.

Harry sat back in his chair and thought about the latest developments, Savoir seemed to be like Dumbledore, perhaps something would start getting done now. He wondered if Savoir knew about the Order, and whether they would have to continue now. He thought they probably would, he couldn't see Dumbledore stepping down now and handing over the protection to everyone else – even if it was Savoir. 

Harry heard a door slamming, and a motorbike revving up. That'd be Sirius disappearing in a huff, and soon Remus walked into the kitchen and sat down and began to drink a cup of what looked like stone cold tea. 

"This is unbelievable," said Harry.

"Not unbelievable, just very welcome…I thought Fudge would really have gone before now, thank God all that's over with now," said Remus heavily.

"So what's going to happen now?" asked Harry curiously, what would really change with a new minister in town.

"We'll have to wait and see," said Remus mysteriously, "Now, if you don't you mind I've got a some studying to get on with, your ok for the day?"

"Yeah fine," said Harry, although he didn't really have _anything _to do.

With that, he walked upstairs to his room, and potted about in his room for a bit, before deciding to read the book Hermione sent him for his birthday.

*

__

Knock, knock.

Harry looked up from his book some time later, it was dark outside and unusually, he was on his own in the house. 

__

Knock, knock.

Whoever it was downstairs was very impatient and Harry put his book down and crept down the stairs. He walked down to the front door cautiously, and pulled it open, staring around the side. Standing their was the tiniest, most weathered and ancient looking man Harry had ever seen, standing on the doorstep wrapped in what looked like a bright orange robe. He was heavily wrinkled and Harry marvelled at how his skin looked like tough old leather, in both colour and texture.

He gave him a sweeping bow, before jovially giving him a toothy grin. Harry gazed open-mouthed at the oriental man, taking in his completely bald-head, long pointy silver beard and strange robes.

"You Harry Potter Mr Sir?" he asked in broken English with a heavy accent.

"Er…Yes that's me," said Harry in confusion as the man dropped a small pack onto the floor and bent his back from side to side.

"Oh my bones, how my bones ache, and my feet! How they pain me," he said in a long-suffering voice as Harry just stood there, "Will you give me a space to rest me bones and feet on?"

"Er…sure," said Harry uncertainly, wondering if he should just let in this complete stranger.

However, he was cut short when the tiny man barged past Harry and hurried down the corridor. Harry gave an indignant yell and scurried after him, finally locating him sitting on the floor cross-legged in front of the fire. He was pulling out a long pipe, and suddenly the room was full of smoke and the old man was singing to himself – loudly, and out of tune.

Harry looked around him desperately, trying to figure out what exactly he should do, having this strange little man making himself comfy in his ex-professors house was not something he was used to. 

"I have lemon slice in my tea," said the man, flashing Harry another smile, before fishing out a pouch from his satchel and handing it to him, "This tea, not bad English river-water! No, no, must have good Green Tea!"

"Sorry," said Harry hesitantly, feeling as if somehow he ought to be humbled by this small mans presence, "But who are you?"

"You not know me?" asked the man blankly, taking a long puff on his intricately carved pipe, "You not know who am I?"

"Er, no," said Harry, feeling a little put out that if the man wanted him to know who he was, he ought to have maybe introduced himself.

"I," he said importantly, drawing himself up to his full (albeit small) height, "am Lu Tze."

He placed his hands in the prayer position and bowed deeply, until the tip of his long beard touched the floor. Harry stared at him in disbelief, the name meant nothing to him at all.

"Er, nice to meet you Mr, er…Zay, but that still doesn't help…sorry to be rude, but what are you doing here?"

"Ah, to be rude, yes that is a crime indeed," said the old man wisely, "But I shall answer your questions. I am Lu Tze, I come from distant land, to seek you."

"Right," said Harry slowly, still failing to grasp any sense of what was happening at all, "Why?"

"I was called for, by your master. I come from China to help you," said the man, bowing deeply again.

Something clicked in Harry's head when the man said China, something he should remember…something important. 

"Old Man Albus sends for Lu Tze, so come Lu Tze must."

"Albus?" said Harry curiously, "Albus Dumbledore?"

The man nodded wisely and at that moment, the fire in the grate leapt to life and Harry jumped back to see the aforementioned headmaster of Hogwarts step out of the flames, eye twinkling as they landed on the small monk-like man.

"Ah Lu Tze!" said Dumbledore happily, bowing deeply to the man with his hands also in the prayer position, which the old Chinaman repeated, "I see you have beaten me here! How was your journey?"

"Long, Old Man Albus. I have seen much and met many, but my heart is gladdened to see you again! How fairs your family?" asked the small man who Harry marvelled was nearly half the height of Dumbledore.

"We are all well. I see you've already met your young protégé?" said Albus jovially, as they both turned to Harry.

Harry merely stared back, completely thrown by recent events. Was this the man who was supposed to be teaching Harry about his magus powers that Sirius and Remus were talking about at the beginning of the holiday? In truth Harry had forgotten all about it, so caught up in Catalina's situation that he was. 

"Forgive us Harry, you must wonder what's happening!" laughed Dumbledore, seating himself on one of the chairs, while the Lu Tze sat on the floor cross-legged, "Are Remus or Sirius here?"

"No, they've gone out," replied Harry faintly, before gathering his wits, "can I get you anything to drink?"

"Yes let us drink tea together, for is it not written _it is_ _better to be deprived of food for three days, than tea for one_?_" _asked Lu Tze, while Harry looked down at the pouch, he looked over to Dumbledore pleadingly, "Sir?"

"Yes, I'll take tea as well, it will give Lu Tze and I a chance to catch up and sort everything out," said the headmaster warmly.

Harry decided he was too confused and walked into the kitchen, and set about trying to figure out how to make tea from leaves. It took him longer than expected, and when he returned to the kitchen the two men were in deep conversation in Lu Tze's native tongue.

When Harry entered though they looked up to him happily, and took the cups with a smile. Harry stood behind the couch, hovering uncertainly.

"I think its about time we explained things to you Harry," said Dumbledore warmly, "Lu Tze has come to stay with us during the summer holidays, to help you train your Magus powers."

Harry had figured as much and gave a small nod, and Lu Tze drank his tea placidly. 

"I'm sorry I haven't told you before this, but I didn't know if Lu Tze would be able to come. Now, however, he is here and he has agreed to be your tutor, with your consent of course."

"Yeah, great," said Harry, still feeling slightly dazed before turning to Lu Tze hastily, "If you don't mind."

"It is my goal in life to educate and I would be honoured to help you in your current trials," said Lu Tze, giving a smaller bow from his position on the carpet. 

"Thank you," said Harry blankly.

"Now, Lu Tze will be staying in the magical quarter of a town nearby called Totness, you will go to his once a day for lessons," explained Dumbledore, "Now, the reason I asked in particular for Lu Tze, is not only because he has years of experience in this type of training, but he also taught and looked after Catalina for a year when she lived in China."

"Really?" asked Harry eagerly, completely changed by the new turn of conversation.

"Yes yes, little _CAT _was one of my favourite students…so clever, so willing to learn. A remarkable girl indeed – her abilities in languages was infamous, she was one of the most talented young witches to come out of Hung Yin," said Lu Tze, looking misty eyed as he recalled the past.

Harry was enraptured now, and listened eagerly for anymore information Lu Tze might pass up. Both of the men seemed to pick up on this but Harry didn't care, he wanted to hear about her life before she came to England, which seemed to cause nothing but pain since the moment she stepped foot into Harry's life.

"I haven't really heard her speak in a foreign language, only occasionally by mistake," said Harry enthusiastically, "but she was very good."

"That is an understatement. Never before I hear someone able to pick up a language within weeks of being in a place, and to such a degree that they could pass themselves as a local. She did many conferences on her talent in China, but she always kept her secret…the language charms are not very effective at the moment are they not Old Man Albus?" asked Lu Tze, sipping his tea cautiously.

"No, language charms are extremely difficult to use and master, and their effects only last for up to half an hour at the most. It is, I'm afraid to say, and area of magic that is lacking."

"Such a waste of a beautiful gift," said Lu Tze sadly, shaking his head.

"Maybe we will find a use for it this year," said Dumbledore in passing, "if she is well enough to come back."

"Yes, I hear my little _CAT _is not fairing to well in her mother land," said Lu Tze worriedly, "She did not settle in this country as she has the others?"

Harry shuffled slightly, and let Dumbledore answer, for one glorious minute, he had almost forgot about that, but not now. For one moment he was looking forward to hearing embarrassing stories from an old family friend, and now it was back to the sad thought of the day.

"She seemed settled with her friends," said Dumbledore thoughtfully, "But last year was turbulent for all concerned…I'm afraid to say her father played a large part of that."

"Ah, Firelight – a hostile character in my time, very clever, an awesome wizard, but very hostile. It surprises me not that he cheated us all…hopefully our mistakes will not be so great that we pay for them dearly," said Lu Tze looking serious and solemn, "_CAT _is a survivor. Though these are tough times for her, is it not written that _you can only go halfway into the darkest forest; then you are coming out the other side?"_

Harry looked at his hands while the two older men nodded at the sentiment. Harry dearly hoped that this man was right, and that Catalina was not going to give up just yet. He hoped she had been through the worst now, and that it was all downhill from there. Dumbledore looked confident, which empowered Harry more than any Doctor or Psychologist could.

"We shall visit her tomorrow shall we not Harry Potter?" asked Lu Tze.

"Yeah! Sure," said Harry excitedly, keeping his excitement in check as the two men laughed.

"But now, I shall go" said Lu Tze, "my journey has been long and arduous, I need rest. Harry Potter, come to home at 4.30 tomorrow and we shall begin."

"I'll see you 4.30 tomorrow night then," said Harry getting up with the headmaster and the small monk.

"Night?" asked the man with bemusement, "No, no, no, you misunderstand me…4.30"

"In the morning?" Harry managed to choke out.

"Of course…" said Lu Tze, hoisting up his pack and walking to the door.

Harry was following gaping open mouthed at the small man as he walked towards the door, slightly shell shocked, he'd never realised there were two 4.30's in one day before now…That meant he would be up and at this place Totness in only a few hours!

Harry watched as the small man picked up his feet and started to walk down the pitch black country lanes.

"He not going to walk there is he?" asked Harry worriedly, "he could use the fireplace."

"I'm sure he has some kind of transportation sorted out," said Dumbledore, leading Harry into the kitchen, and sitting opposite him at the table, "Now tell me Harry, what do you thinking of Lu Tze?"

"He's a character," laughed Harry slightly.

"That he is," said Dumbledore with a fond smile, "I always find him to be a very charming companion, never a dull moment when Lu Tze is around! I think you will get on well – learn his quirks and he shall learn yours!"

"His saying are quite good aren't they?" asked Harry casually, "Very appropriate."

"Yes, one for every occasion! I always find them most humorous – one of my favourites is one that he told me once, when he gave _me _a ridiculously early meeting time. I had managed to beat him at his own game you see. He said to me 'Old Man Albus, the early bird gets the worm,' to which I replied, 'Yes, but the second mouse gets the cheese!' He was so delighted he let me come a whole hour later!"

Harry laughed at Dumbledore's words and tried to imagine the monk jumping back in surprise at Dumbledore's funny statement. Dumbledore chuckled for a few moments before turning a semi-serious face towards Harry.

"He's a good teacher, learn all you can from him Harry – where he comes from religion is closely intertwined with magic and society…" paused Dumbledore before suddenly turning to Harry with a twinkle in his eye, "Have you ever seen the film Karate Kid?"

"No," said Harry blankly wondering where on _earth _Dumbledore would have anytime to watch muggle television and cinema.

"Hmmm, well I would tell you to expect something like that, but as it is, forget I mentioned it."

Harry gave him a curious look, but brushed it off as another peculiarity of Dumbledore that made him such a character.

"I heard about Mr Savoir," said Harry conversationally.

"Ah yes," said Dumbledore, leaning back in his chair and putting his hands behind his head, "I was _most _pleased about that!"

"You're friends with him?"

"He was a most unusual pupil to teach, he defined himself very quickly as someone who was different – if there is such a thing a Hogwarts," he laughed, "The country if safe while in the hands of that man."

"What was he like at school then?" asked Harry.

"I think the best word to describe him was as a mediator, he never took part in an argument himself, but always was there to make sure things were properly. He comes from much the same background as you, orphaned at a young age and new to the world of magic until he went to Hogwarts," he said thoughtfully, as if only noticing the similarities himself for the first time, "He will be working in close contact with Order, secretly of course."

"Will the order still go ahead then? Even though everything is out in the open now?" asked Harry curiously.

"In a word yes. The Ministry has its own army in the form of auror's, many of which are in the Order already, but we will still perform our duty as before, and in secret. We currently have spy's abroad looking for any sign of the Death Eaters or Voldemort."

"It should make the ministry's job a lot easier though, all these missing people will obviously be Death Eaters," said Harry smugly.

"Yes, they have taken a big gamble in exposing themselves in this way, and I can't help but think that it is very suspicious…I am sure there is some secret reason we cannot see yet. A lot more spy's will be sent abroad, I want close watch on foreign ministry's, groups and schools if we are to learn of this army of evil that Voldemort is gathering from across the world," he said watching Harry intensely for his reaction.

"Do you think he would really be able to get into the schools for support?" asked Harry, shocked at the very suggestion.

"Do you not think the same for some of the students at Hogwarts? That they have already become exposed to the Dark Side?" asked Dumbledore with uncharacteristic truthfulness – Harry had never heard him place doubt on any member of the school before.

Harry sensibly held his tongue, but he knew exactly who Dumbledore was talking about – Slytherin's. Draco Malfoy and his little posse of rats in the more evilly temperamental house of Hogwarts. Harry often wondered if the headmaster had ever noticed things about that house he should be worried about – and here was the answer. 

"But innocent until proven guilty, we aim to get there before the rot sets in…hopefully we can save lives before more are lost."

Harry nodded solemnly.

"How is Miss Firelight?" asked Dumbledore suddenly, completely throwing Harry off track.

Harry took a deep breath wondering where to begin, before starting in a low, sad voice, "Not that good. She's depressed, and there doesn't seem to be anything I can do to stop it…I don't think she's going to make it."

There. He'd said it. He'd said the thing that had been plaguing on his mind since he'd first seen her that he hadn't dared to voice in case it would somehow make it a reality. Dumbledore seemed to understand and even, god forbid, share Harry's thoughts, and fixed him with a piercing look. 

"She won't unless she is strong, and when she is not you must be for her…I don't think you realise how much she has come to rely on you. Her father and mother were her closest friends throughout her life, with her father abroad and her mother critically ill herself, she doesn't believe she has anything left to live for. You must make sure she does not give up hope Harry," said Dumbledore seriously, while Harry looked back into his eyes solemnly.

"I really don't think she trusts me anymore – she's scared of me, terrified even," said Harry sorrowfully.

"It's only to be expected Harry. Trauma cases of this nature tends to effect the person psychologically rather than physiologically, but you must remember; trust can be gained. It may take some time, but it can be regained."

Harry felt a little heartened by Dumbledore's words, and gave him a small nod.

"She is very important to our side Harry, both of you are…I hesitate to say it in these words, but you are the best weapons of war we have…your gifts, are undeniably going to help shape the course of the future," said Dumbledore softly.

Harry glanced at him unsurely – weapons of war? He didn't like the sound of that at all. Now at least he knew why there was a sudden interest in having him trained up in the magical accident masquerading as a 'gift'. 

"I don't think you can exactly rely on Catalina to see it like that," said Harry as evenly as possible, although on the inside he was almost quite angry.

"Of course, forgive me Harry. But we cannot escape our destinies, yes indeed," mused Dumbledore.

Harry nodded hesitantly, and shifted in the uncomfortable silence that was lingering in the room now. Dumbledore however, rallied magnificently, looking over his glasses with a small grin fixed on his face.

"And how are you enjoying living with Sirius and Remus?" 

"It's ok," shrugged Harry, "a little strange…"

And it was true, Harry had never ever lived anywhere apart from Privet Drive, Hogwarts and the Weasley's didn't count, as they were just temporary things in a way. But this place was like a new home…for the summer at least. He had his own room, access to a t.v, the radio, thousand of books. If he had known a year ago he'd be living here he'd have been ecstatic, now he was just too bored and sad to care.

"Sirius isn't causing too much trouble?" he asked slyly.

"A little, but I think Remus is enjoying having him here really. He's insisting on helping Remus train for his auror's exam…even I know a few more hexes that work on Sirius now," laughed Harry.

"Full moon coming up as well," noted Dumbledore, looking at his watch.

Harry blinked in realisation, he'd known of course that it was coming up, you couldn't fail to see the calendar on the kitchen wall, full moons ringed in red…but he guess he was so caught up he'd forgotten about it.

"Well, the night is getting on, I'm sorry to miss them both. Give them my best wishes – I'll be seeing you soon Harry," said Dumbledore suddenly, getting up signalling the end of the meeting.

"Oh, ok," said Harry, getting up as well and taking the cup to the sink.

He led Dumbledore to the fire, and shook his hand in a slightly embarrassed way when he offered. A few seconds later the fire was roaring, and Dumbledore was stepping in, and turning around to him conversationally.

"Oh by the way Harry, Green Tea doesn't usually have milk in it," he said with a smile, before disappearing. 

Harry sat down heavily on the coach in front of the fire – it had been some night. So he'd finally met this mysterious Lu Tze, his new magus tutor, and he had to meet him the next morning at 4.30! He wondered vaguely why Catalina had never mentioned him, when he so obviously knew her, but then again he didn't know a lot about her previous life.

He was still sat in the couch thoughtfully when he heard the far off roar of Sirius's motorbike, and after what seemed like hours it pulled up in front of the drive. The dark room was suddenly illuminated by the headlights and he heard them take a while to get into the well-protected house, having undo both the magical wards and mortise locks.

"I don't care what you say, I'm never going on that thing again!" came Remus's voice down the corridor, sounding both terrified and amused at the same time – if it was possible.

"I can't understand how you don't like it," came Sirius's voice in mock-hurt.

"Well, maybe it something about nearly hitting three sheep and two ponies that did it? Or taking a corner nearly horizontal to the floor!" said Remus walking into the lounge.

"Harry," said Remus blankly when he spotted him sitting in the room.

"What are you doing up this late?" demanded Sirius before turning to Remus in horror, "Oh my God, I've turned into my mother!"

Remus laughed and looked at Harry curiously, who looked up to them with a small, albeit dazed expression.

"You guys will never guess what's happened."

*

****

AN/ Well everyone, here you go you impatient hobbits. Hope you all liked it, haven't really had time to write any more lately what with college work, my job and being ill this week. But all finished now!

Thanks to… Riser155, anonymus, Esperanza

****

What did you think of this chapter? I hope you like it, I'll try and rush things along, its nearly a 1/3 of the length of the last one and they haven't even DONE anything yet. But for all those who're missing Hermione, she's in the next chapter, as is Ron - and our new cheeky chappie Lu Tze.

And to whoever said British people wouldn't say "Hey guys"…I'm British and I say that everyday. 


	9. Study and Reflection

****

~*~*~ Chapter Eight ~*~*~

Study and Reflection

__

Beep, beep, beep, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP!

Harry opened a sleep filled eye and groggily looked around for the source of the irritating noise. A few wild flailing of his arms later and he not only nearly fractured his wrist, but also managed to turn off the alarm clock – quietness descended on his room.

He was asleep almost instantly, before what seemed like only seconds the incessant noise started again. Harry picked up the clock with a heavy arm and chucked it across the room. That shut it up for about two minutes, before it started beeping again. Harry had no choice but to get out of the lovely warm bed into the freezing cold air of the pitch black room and scrabble in a bundle of clothes for the clock.

Finally he turned it off and seriously considered crawling back into bed when he realised why he had set the alarm clock in the first place. It was the morning of his first ever Magus lesson with Lu Tze and it was 3.45 am. Harry had never purposely been awake at this ungodly hour and was making less than quiet attempts to stumble around the room locating his clothes, before trudging down the stairs and into the kitchen. He couldn't decide whether to have breakfast or not – it wasn't exactly breakfast time, but then again he had woken up…in the end he opted for some toast and a glass of juice before he walked zombie like towards the fire.

He checked the piece of paper with the address on, started up a fire and threw a handful of floo powder into the flames. He gazed gormlessly at the fire for a few minutes, he was so, _so _tired, he could hardly keep his eyes open. He finally roused himself enough the throw in another handful of powder and shout the name of Lu Tze's lodgings, "Room 11B, The Heights."

The floo ride certainly woke him up and after a terribly rough and sickening journey Harry stumbled out into what he assumed was Lu Tze's home. It was a small room, with completely blank white walls, with hardly any furniture save for a low table and a few mats. There was no one in the currently dark room and Harry wondered nervously whether he ought to go and find Lu Tze or just wait for him here.

"You are early, but is it not written, _The early bed gets the worm_?" 

Harry spun around to see Lu Tze sitting on the floor behind him.

"Sir!" said Harry, shocked by his sudden appearance, "I didn't see you come in."

"Ah-ha!" said Lu Tze waggling his finger at Harry, "And there is your first mistake. _Eyes are made to be open, do not shut them to what happens around you._"

Harry got the distinct feeling that he had already started the lesson, as if he'd already had a test and had failed. He morale slipped a little, but he picked himself up – it was early days. Lu Tze got up and drew himself to his full height, still heads below Harry and bowed, hands in prayer position. Harry got all flustered, feeling as if something was expected of him, so he also bowed – quite awkwardly. 

"And there is your second. _If you must bow at all, bow low!_ It is the proper greeting custom in my country, it shows respect for your acquaintance," said Lu Tze knowledgeably.

Harry nodded vigorously, trying to make it clear he was paying attention. Already he felt like he should have bought some kind of notebook as his early morning brain couldn't cope with all this learning so early. 

"Now, we will go to the roof, and we will watch the sun rise," said Lu Tze, leading Harry out of the small room.

Harry followed the tiny man out of the small flat, and onto the staircase, full of bags of clothes and various people bicycles, shoes and coats. Lu Tze was obviously staying in a large bedsit and Harry wondered if anyone had noticed they had a small monk living with them yet. They eventually got to the top of the never ending staircase, and stepped outside into the freezing early morning air, and Harry found himself looking over a small seaside town, whose rooftops were the traditional terraced Victorian houses, with the occasional church spire dotted around. It was too dark to actually see the sea, but he could smell it and Harry was impossibly excited at the thought of actually seeing the sea again. 

Lu Tze sat down on the concrete floor and patted to the floor beside him.

"Pull up a pew," he said with a smile, "and tell me who Harry Potter is."

"Who I am?" asked Harry confusedly, feeling as if it was another test.

"Yes, who are you?"

"Well…I'm 16, currently living in the West Country of England…" said Harry hesitantly, not sure whether it was right, but Lu Tze was nodding happily so he continued, "…with my godfather and my dads old friend."

"And why do you live with them?" asked Lu Tze, pulling out a pipe.

Harry gaped at him, everybody knew the story about his parents at the least, but he decided that like everything else, this seemed to be a test so he answered the question anyway, "Because my mom and dad died when I was young."

"How?"

Harry glared at the monk, who didn't bat an eyelid. Harry knew for certain he knew the whole story.

"They were murdered."

"Who by?"

"Voldemort."

"Ah-ha, very wise to speak his name," said the monk appreciatively, "So, you lived with your godfather since then?"

"No, with my mom's sister and her husband until last year," said Harry, feeling bored by having to answer the same old questions.

"We're they good parental-substitutes?" 

Harry laughed outright at the very thought, earning him a strange look from the monk. He obviously didn't see what was so humorous and Harry quickly wiped the smile off his face. 

"Er, not at all."

"So where did you learn your morals?" asked the monk, becoming almost an interviewer, Harry would have suspected he was a spy by the Daily Prophet, if he hadn't been vouched by Dumbledore.

"I don't know…around."

"Forgive me for prying but I am very curious to know…was it from your friends?"

Again Harry could have laughed out loud, but had the sense to keep the smirk to a bare minimum, "I didn't really have very many friends when I was young."

"But you have friends now?" asked the monk casually.

"Oh yeah, I have the best friends ever now," said Harry, his whole personae changing instantly.

"Tell me about them."

So Harry did, all about meeting Ron on the train, and meeting Hermione and hating her guts, and then saving her from the troll and becoming best friends, and all the trials they'd faced together. And then he told him about meeting Catalina in Diagon Alley, and their rocky road to friendship – which Lu Tze was particularly interested to hear about. But he was even more curious about Ron for some reason, and kept asking Harry questions about him. 

"So, Ron has brothers or sisters?" he asked.

"Oh yeah, he's one of seven, can you imagine that! He has a sister and five brothers," said Harry before he face clouded over, "I mean four brothers…"

"One has died?"

"No…well yes…maybe," said Harry awkwardly, "It's complicated. He went missing after the attack, we haven't found him yet…"

"_Shed no tears until seeing the coffin_," said Lu Tze wisely, giving Harry and consoling pat on the shoulder, "Maybe your friend is still ok."

"I hope so, Percy was always such a stick in the mud, always worrying about his future and what he was going to do, " said Harry sadly, "I never actually ever spoke to him properly…I wish I had now."

"Maybe there will be chance to correct your mistake," said Lu Tze, "Now, tell me about your powers, what you can do, and what I can do for you."

So Harry explained all about the Hogsmeade attack, and his and Catalina's shield, and how they had been knocked into a coma. Then waking up and finding the scars (which Lu Tze examined for some time) and then about the emotions connection (Harry figured since half the country knew, why couldn't one more). A finally he told him about the Riddle Manor attack, and how he'd used his powers unconsciously to save himself from falling, and to stun the Death Eaters.

"That all makes sense, all times of heightened emotion leading to sporadic bursts of power….A magus power cannot fully be controlled until the witch or wizard has been able to properly control the power inside them, this is what you must do, if you are ever to control your power."

Harry nodded, it was everything he'd heard before, but he just didn't understand _how _he was supposed to do this, sit in a darkened room until he could suddenly levitate things and throw fireballs?

"And how do I do that exactly?" asked Harry, hoping not to seem too sceptical.

"I do not expect you to understand what has taken me my whole lifetime to realise, said Lu Tze wisely, looking across the distance the pink impression of dawn approaching, "But I hope, that with our time together, I can pass on a little of that understanding and make the road a little less rocky for you."

"So, in answer to your question, we will start with a little meditation…to help clear the mind and focus the soul."

And with that, Lu Tze closed his eyes and sat stock still. After a few minutes Harry guessed he ought to follow suit and sat on the rooftop feeling slightly foolish, feeling the comforting embrace of sleep draw ever closer as he examined the inside of his eyelids.

"What I expect you to see, young one, is yourself," murmured Lu Tze mystically a while later, "I want you to imagine the exact moment when your powers came to you, for is it not said, _Study without reflection is a waste of time; reflection without study is dangerous_**.**"

So, the slightly uncomfortable Harry remembered back to the Hogsmeade attack. He saw in his minds eye Hermione disappearing into the crowd of Death Eaters, shortly followed by Ron. He could remember the fear, and the terror in Catalina's eyes as she begged him to do something. He cast his mind right back to the moment they realised they were trapped, having walked, hand in hand, towards the white wall of a nearby building, lost in some alley way. 

He saw them raise their shields, as if he were watching some film in his head, complete with surround sound and smell-o-vision. 

__

'Harry…What are we going to do?'

He remembered seeing them close in on them, and becoming so tired at the amount of energy needed to hold up their combined shield…but she wouldn't give up and practically held it up for the two of them.

__

It's only a shield…Eaters 'It can be broken with an unforgivable…Avada Kedavra!"

The words echoed around his head horribly, and he frowned during his 'peaceful meditation'. He watched in a detached way as they shot the spell at them, seeing the ball of green light arc towards them at excruciatingly slow speed. He saw it hit the shield, break on the surface in a shower of violent green sparks, as did the shield, which shattered around their feet.

He remembered the sound of screaming, coming from somewhere. He remembered being thrown back off his feet by the force of whatever had hit them, not knowing until that moment on a rooftop in Totness, Devon, that it wasn't just the spell that had nearly both killed them, it was the Magus power being transferred into him.

It was too much, too fast he thought wildly as he replayed the image, it shouldn't have happened like that….it shouldn't have happened at all.

But it had, and here were the consequences. 

"The memory is a wonderful thing," came Lu Tze's heavy oriental accented voice, breaking his thoughts, "But there is only so much it can do, now you need to be _shown_."

*

"I assume you already have seen Magus power?" asked Lu Tze, folding himself up on the floor in his living room again.

"One or two times," said Harry, shrugging.

The truth was he'd seen it more than a few times, most of which took place in Riddle Manor. He didn't ever want to have to experience what he did that night, or see what magical power could _really_ do.

"So I will spare you a demonstration," said the monk gratefully, " now what we must do now, is teach you to recognise your magus power, so then you may be able to harness it and use it."

Harry nodded, it all sounded very foggy to him.

"_Only once the mind is quiet, can you recognise the voices inside it_," said Lu Tze cryptically, "Now…listen to your mind, listen to what it is telling you about the power of the Magus."

Harry listened, he really did. He sat there feeling like a right lemon, listening his brain telling him things like 'this is stupid…we're gonna be here all day…I'm hungry…' After a while Lu Tze peeked at Harry through his closed lids.

"I can see your mind is not easily quietened, very well. This spell will link our two magical energy reserves, so you can feel what it is like to use the Power."

A thin snake of white light leapt from Lu Tze's fingers, and instantly Harry felt his finger tips heat up. He looked down at them to see the small electric currents zip from finger. He raised them in front of his face and wiggled them experimentally, all the time connected to Lu Tze who was smiling benevolently. And all at once he understood what Lu Tze meant about the Magus Power, he could see it inside of him, well not exactly _see _it, but feel it. He couldn't put into words where it was, it was like trying to pinpoint the exact location of a needle in a haystack. He didn't know _where _it was, but he knew it _was _there, and that seemed to be enough. 

Lu Tze broke off the connection, and gave him a nod of approval, "Our Cat has given you more power than I had thought."

Harry looked at his fingers again, they looked normal, but he could now feel the magic bubbling around them, he supposed it was just after effects of Lu Tze's spell.

"Now, let me see you try."

Harry gave a nod and focused, feeling the tiny crackling build up at the tips of his fingers, he looked down at them excitedly, they looked like bad movie special effects.

"Now!" said Lu Tze excitedly, "direct it over here!"

Harry looked at the pillow and pointed a finger, urging the light to leap off. It nearly worked as well, if his aim hadn't been so bad. Instead the little ball of white light zipped off into the corner of the room, bouncing off the wall before falling onto the floor and fading.

"Very good!" applauded Lu Tze, looking maniacally cheerful with his little brown face crinkled up happily, "again!"

And again he did do it, and again, and again, and _again_. Harry mused later on that maybe it was a good job that Lu Tze's home was sparsely decorated, as the little fireballs he'd developed the light into went zipping around.

"Sorry!" shouted Harry as one bounced off the monks robe, "I can't seem to aim them at all."

Lu Tze merely nodded complacently at Harry's frustration, "_A man must insult himself before others will_," he said wisely, "Now where do you think you are going wrong?"

"I can't aim that's where I'm going wrong!" said Harry in frustration.

"And how can we solve that?" asked the monk, before enlarging the cushion, "by giving you a bigger target."

After another half and hour, Harry could hit the cushion every time, and he hadn't noticed before but all the time Lu Tze was secretly shrinking it, until it was the same size as before, then smaller, the _smaller _still. Every time he could hit it until he suddenly caught on and gave the monk an incredulous look.

"I can't believe I can do this."

He smiled happily, "that is enough for now I think…let us go and have some breakfast, then we shall go and visit our Cat."

Harry followed Lu Tze out of the room and into a small communal kitchen. Sitting in it was a woman wearing about five skirts, all tie-died, and ruffled top and a positive haberdashery of beads and rings dripping from every limb.

"Ah Ms Salcomb," said Lu Tze bowing deeply to the woman, "and how are you this fine morning."

The woman gave him a warm, misty smile completely ignoring Harry and spoke is a soft, professor Trelawney-like voice, "It's Silvia kind sir, but I'm feeling most unbalanced today, the rainbow of my tai-chi is diluted today."

Harry stared open-mouthed at the woman, was she for real? Harry watched the two talking for some time, with many a mention from her about mother goddesses, crystals and chakra's before it finally clicked that she was one of these new age hippie type muggles who thought they were witches. He grinned to himself and wonder what she'd say if she saw a real bit of magic like what they had been doing all morning.

Lu Tze handed him a bowl of what he thought might have been soup and Harry sat down with 'Silvia' (whose real name he later found out was Agnes) and fielded most of the strange questions she sent his way. He only managed to escape after promising he would have his 'chakra's' rebalanced…whatever they were.

"So now we shall go and visit my Cat," said the monk offering Harry a handful of floo powder. 

One bumpy ride later he strolled out of the now familiar Newcastle Station and followed the monk across the courtyard and into the building, Harry letting his feet lead the way.

Lu Tze and Harry soon stood outside the window, the usual guard was there, and Harry could hear Catalina. She was a bit quieter than last he saw her, still upset and depressed, but there was a definite perk in her mood. Dr Rahn had told him she was over her virus, and currently on some very effective medicine but he hadn't expected her to be so much improved. 

"Lets go and see my little Cat then shall we?"

Harry gave a nod, and pushed the door to the wardroom open, Catalina gave a sigh and spoke from her position under the bedcovers, "Back again? Don't you ever get bored?"

Lu Tze gave Harry an almost mischievous grin, before suddenly shouting out in a loud voice in a garbled speech.

The effect was almost comical, the lump under the bedcovers gave a huge start, before pushing them all back and hastily scrabbling out of bed. She was looking pale, dishevelled but very alert, and was standing in a long night-shirt on the cold floor. Harry grinned as she gave a deep, stiff bow to Lu Tze, with her hands in his prayer position. Lu Tze returned the motion, before gabbling to Catalina in their bizarre language.

Harry watched in fascination, as they chatted for some time, Catalina's answers coming slowly, sadly but still just a fluent as Lu Tze's. She wasn't smiling or laughing, but she had a new light Harry hadn't seen in her eyes for some months, she hadn't even noticed him yet, but he enjoyed just watching her for a while, finding a new sense of hope. 

Lu Tze saying "Harry," in the middle of a garbled speech suddenly caught his attention, and Catalina suddenly looked across to him I surprise.

"Harry," she said blankly before asking him a question in Chinese.

Harry gave an embarrassed laugh and shrugged his shoulders in Lu Tze's direction.

"_English," _said, Lu Tze with a kind smile.

"Oh," said Catalina, before shaking her head slightly.

"Sorry…Harry," she said confusedly, rubbing her temple absent-mindedly, "sorry, it's been a long day…"

"Hey, no problem. How are you feeling?"

"Much better," she sighed, "I might be able to get out in a few weeks."

"That's fantastic," said Harry with a huge grin, one not matched by her.

"What's this, my little Cat not smiling and be happy?" asked Lu Tze in distress, "what happened to that happy little white face?"

Catalina gave a shrug and what she thought was a small smile, but turned out to be a grimace. She suddenly realised she was still standing on the cold floor, with her night shirt shaking with her chill, and she gave a look at Harry, promptly going red. She had quickly climbed back into bed, and had pulled the covers up to her chin. 

Lu Tze, settled himself in the chair next to the bed, and Harry hovered awkwardly by the doorway. They had began to talk in low Chinese voices again, and he had the feeling they would be better off alone.

"I'm going to go and get some coffee," he said, slightly nervously, "Would you like anything?"

"I doubt they would have my tea here, I am fine, Catalina?" 

She said something in Chinese to him, and Harry got the feeling it was a no, and excused himself from the room. He wandered down the corridor slowly, keen to waste as much time as he possibly could, Catalina was a little bit better, she wanted some alone time with her old professor, and he was feeling distinctly like the third wheel. 

He reached a small shop, where a woman was creating cups of coffee out of thin air, with cocoa powder and ground nutmeg flavouring the air to almost choking capacity. He walked up and fished some coins out of his jeans.

"One, er, coffee please," he asked politely, and the woman obliged without a word or acknowledgement.

He handed over his money and scampered away, choosing to sit in the main waiting area before he went back. He drank the scalding liquid, feeling it go to work at once on the dozy feeling he'd been having from being awake so long. It was then that he heard a familiar voice up the corridor. He looked up instantly spotting the forgetful looking boy being accompanied by an older man that had something of the young boys looks around the face.

"Harry!" said the boy blankly when he stood up to greet him.

"Hey Neville," said Harry slightly awkwardly.

"What are you doing here?" the boy squeaked, looking as if he'd been caught red handed doing something he shouldn't.

"Visiting Catalina," said Harry with a shrug, noticing the way Neville's features creased into a frown.

"And er…how is she doing?" asked Neville in an unconcerned voice.

"She's getting there," said Harry quietly, "not to good, but then not to bad."

"Oh, I'm glad to hear it," he said, sounding quite the opposite.

There was a lingering silence, Harry obviously knew Neville's feelings on Catalina, and he wasn't best pleased about them.

"What about you, what're you doing here?"

"Oh, I'm er…I'm visiting family," he said even more awkwardly, going red in the face.

"Oh, I hope their ok," said Harry politely, as the taller man regarded him stonily.

"Yeah," whispered Neville, looking hopeless and lost.

"Come on Neville, we haven't got much time," said the older man, steering the boy away.

"Well, tell them get well soon from me, see you at Hogwarts," said Harry with a smile.

"Yeah I will, see you Harry."

Harry was slightly annoyed that Neville hadn't wished Catalina well and watched as they walked away down a familiar looking corridor. It was only when he looked up at the signpost that the penny suddenly dropped and he realised who Neville was actually visiting. 

__

Psychiatric ward, this way

Harry suddenly felt very weak kneed, and he collapsed into his chair, looking at the sign in disbelief, how could he not have known? Dumbledore had already told him Neville visited his parents during the holidays. He was so caught up in feeling defensive about Catalina that he hadn't stopped to think. Poor Neville.

He sadly got up out of his seat, and decided to go back and visit Catalina, but as he was walking down the corridor he passed Dr Rahn's office, whose door was open, with him bent over his desk. Harry hovered uncertainly by the door, before knocking quietly. The doctor looked up and gave Harry a smile.

"Harry, can I help you?"

"Er yes," said Harry, stepping over the threshold nervously, "I was er just wondering how Catalina was…"

"Have you not been to see her yet?" he asked, motioning for him to sit down.

"Well yes…but she told me you were going to let her out shortly, I don't really understand how?"

"Well, physically Catalina in nearly fully recovered, she doesn't need to be here anymore," said the doctor leaning back in his chair and fixing Harry with a stare.

"But you know as well as I do she wouldn't be able to last out there, not with what people are saying…what they're doing," said Harry desperately.

"Yes I know that, but it isn't the job of a hospital to control the media," said Dr Rahn with a long-suffering sigh, "all we can hope for is that Catalina can make it on her own."

"And where is she going to stay?" demanded Harry, "Her mothers still ill, she hasn't got anywhere to go."

"Her grandparents will be picking her up next Wednesday."

Harry's mouth dropped open in shock. That soon? And her grandparents as well…wow. 

"Catalina's never met them before," he said in confusion, "she's not going to go off with some people she doesn't even know or trust!"

"They have been thoroughly checked by the Ministry, and she will we having daily visits from one of the hospital staff to check up on her…it the best we can do Harry."

"Does she know?" he asked slowly.

"She has been told."

"And what does she think?" 

Dr Rahn took his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose, " I wouldn't know, all I heard was another garbled sentence.

Harry hid a grin.

*

He had visited Catalina after his talk with the doctor, but had found Catalina asleep, with Lu Tze sitting and watching her.

"You are right," he said quietly when he saw Harry, "My little Cat is very different to when I saw her last, but at last she sleeps."

"Was she ok?"

He gave Harry a thoughtful look, "She has been through a lot, more than we know, she is keeping secrets from us…yes indeed."

"Secrets?" asked Harry in a quavering voice, it was secrets that had caused this whole fiasco, it was secrets that had driven the wedge between them, Harry had learned to hate the word. 

"Yes, yes indeed my Cat has secrets," said Lu Tze with a troubled expression, casting a look at her sleeping form, "But until that time she is ready to tell us then we will not know."

Harry couldn't help but gulp nervously, what could it be? Harry also looked at her, she looked so peaceful in her sleep, like all the troubled had melted away from her. He wished he could see her looking like that when she was awake, if only for a second just to know she wasn't plagued by her own memories. 

"Well there is nothing we can do now," said Lu Tze finally, getting out of his seat, "we shall go to our respective homes now and meet each other tomorrow."

"The same time?" asked Harry timidly, as he hoped beyond hope he would get _some _kind of leniency, he'd already been up for 10 hours.

"The same time," said Lu Tze, with a tinkle in his eye and a smile playing on his lips.

"Right," said Harry despondently, following Lu Tze to the Floo Station.

"See you tomorrow," said Harry with a wave, before stepping into the fireplace at Newcastle, and coming out of another in Princetown. 

"Did you learn much Harry?" asked Remus, when Harry walked into the kitchen. 

"Yeah," said Harry enthusiastically, "Watch!"

He promptly set a small cushion on fire and their was a brief moment of panic as Remus doused it and sent him a warning look.

"Maybe it's best if you practised outside?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Maybe," he said sheepishly.

"Well it's E-day tomorrow, so I'm off to do some studying, shout me if you need anything else such as the fire brigade?"

Harry had the decency to look slightly ashamed, and strolled outside to leave Remus to his studying. He spent the rest of the days lazily throwing fireballs at the nearby tree until the fun had decidedly worn off.

*

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AN/ Paffy begs forgiveness from all of her readers, and offers this explanation. In Britain at the moment it is the run up to the exam season, and like Remus I am finding it difficult to get my head out of my textbooks.

However, wandering fingers somehow always find their way to my story folder when I _should _be doing my archaeology coursework, and this is the product of it. Sorry it's a bit shorter than usual!

These stories are keeping me sane I swear. I hope you like it. And we finally get the see Hermione in the next chapter (she hasn't been written since she disappeared in the Riddle Manor, only referred too) And Catalina comes out and meet her family.

Is anyone watching "I'm a celebrity get me out of here" at the mo? I was really annoyed to see one of the celebs called Catalina…They stole my name!

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Riser155 - Thanks for the review! Sorry you've had to wait so long! So this is how Harry deals with a 4.30 am wake up call! He handled it pretty well I thought, but wait until he's a had a few days of it and it'll start getting him down I'm sure! Don't worry, I'm sure Harry'll think of something to get the press of her back.

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Preciousgirl - Sorry you had to wait so long for this chapter as well! I can only apologise for it profusely! Thanks for sticking with this for so long! Hopefully I'll get a bit more excitement into it soon! Promise!

**Gillian**** - **I hope you haven't been staring at the screen in anticipation for this to come out…you may need some kind of kiss of life otherwise! Hope you haven't starved in front of the screen and are sane enough to enjoy the rest of it!

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Anonymus - Thanks a lot, hope your enjoying the rest of this chapter as well!

**Esperanza** - Thanks AGAIN for the review! I hope you liked the new chapter and I agree with you completely…things are a bit tough for our Harry at the moment. But things'll pick up soon I promise! I'm going to try and make it a _bit _more cheerful in the next chappie, otherwise we'll find our Harry swinging from the lightshade huh?

**dementorchic**** - **Thank you again for another wonderful review! I know its slow coming out, but it's all locked up in my head atm. Please don't hate me for the slowness! I'm glad you like Lu Tze, we'll see more of him soon!

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A Fan - Thanks for the link to the book covers site! I'm already planning my June 21st right down to the minutes spent. I am definitely mitching college to read it! I'm glad you regard my story so high! And tell your mom you're just improving your literacy, it always works for me (yeah right, it worked _once_). If all else fails, just cry!

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	10. E Day

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~*~*~ Chapter Nine ~*~*~

E-Day

He was in the newspaper the next morning. It didn't even surprise him now. He flicked his gaze over it, barely taking in the information about Lu Tze, which was the main focus for this article, and how Harry had 'befriended' him. He couldn't even be bothered to get worked up about it, it seemed to be a hazard of his life these days.

*

Harry and Sirius were sat in the kitchen at the table both 'working' diligently, ears pricked for the sound of the fireplace roaring to life. They had expected Remus back an hour ago, with the all important exam results. Harry had been back from Lu Tze's second day of lessons for hours, and Remus had been gone since the evening before.

According to Sirius, the Auror tests are a number of practical and theoretical exams. He had refused to tell Harry what his and his dad's practical exam had been, but he had that haunted look in his eyes that he still sometimes had. Apparently they were harrowing to say the least. 

They were both glancing at the clock every few minutes, and when they heard a figure walk into the kitchen they looked up nervously.

Remus however, instead of answering the expectant gazes, walked over to the cupboard and pulled out a packet of food. He began to make his dinner in silence while Harry and Sirius fidgeted in their seat. 

"Well?" asked Sirius eventually when Remus sat down with his bowl of instant Chinese noodles.

"Well what?" he asked, wielding his chopsticks like a pro. 

"How did you do?" asked Sirius impatiently.

"Well you know, it's hard to judge, parts went well, others not so good…" he said.

"What are you talking about? They tell you straight away!" whined Sirius, "come on, just tell me!"

"Well," he said, steepling his fingers and looking at them in a solemn way, "I passed."

"Wohoo!" yelled Sirius, dancing around the kitchen excitedly, as Remus continued to eat his noodles, looking completely unimpressed.

"That's fantastic Remus, well done!" said Harry happily, "I think I should be safe here now eh? With two trained Auror's to protect me."

He nodded happily, and after a while Sirius detached himself from the kitchen ceiling.

"We could work together now!" he said excitedly, "the marauders re-united!"

Remus raised his eyebrows at Harry who smiled in appreciation.

"God help the Death Eaters, that's all I can say," said Harry with a laugh, "with you two around."

*

Harry sat on the couch in the living room, waiting for Hermione to step out of the flames. She was due any minute now, as was Ron, but due to what Harry called 'Weasley time' meant he'd be about half an hour late – it was always the way. A few seconds later the fire leapt up in he grate and Hermione stumbled through, a mass of soot and loud coughs as she banged her knees on the couch Harry was sitting on and tripped over.

"Enjoy your trip?" Harry asked, looking over the arm of the couch with a grin.

"Fantastic," she said dryly.

"Bring me back any rock?" he asked with mock-hopefulness.

"They don't sell that in France," she said laughing.

"How was your holiday then?" asked Harry excitedly, he hadn't seen Hermione for what seemed like _ages._

"Pretty good, I was a bit worried about being abroad but there was no need to worry. Weather was good, food was good, what can I say?" she said, dropping into the couch next to him.

The weather certainly must have been good, she was so tanned, and her hair had gone about two shades lighter from the sun – and this was coming from Harry who never noticed _anything._ He looked at her hair again, there was something different about it.

"What you done to your hair?" asked Harry peering at it closer.

Hermione sighed and pulled out a few colourful little things from her hair, "Someone on the beech braided it for me," she said simply.

Harry looked at the pieces of hair wrapped in brightly coloured cloth, which were all, Harry noted smugly, Gryffindor colours of red and gold.

"Looks cool," he said, "want a drink?"

"Sure, when's Ron turning up?" she asked casually.

Harry gave her a small grin, "about 10 minutes ago. He'll be here within the hour I expect."

After they had retrieved drinks, they went and sat outside in the sun, picking the least dense patch of weeds to set up camp and await Ron's arrival. They chatted for a few minutes about France, before conversations started turning towards the inevitable.

"You've been busy then," she said giving him a sympathetic look, "according to the Daily Prophet."

Harry rolled his eyes emphatically.

"I swear to God they must have some kind of tracking device on me, they always know when I'm just about to visit – it's weird!"

"Ah well, you're famous aren't you," she said with a small grin, "you both are."

"Don't remind me," said Harry sulkily, "they've been picking on me this year."

"Well you're both sixteen now aren't you? The rules on press coverage are different now," said Hermione simply while Harry turned and stared at her.

"One question: How the hell did you know that?"

Hermione just gave a shrug and tapped her nose conspiratorially.

"Well, laws or no laws, its not exactly what she needs right now…she's not very well at all," said Harry worriedly, wondering if Catalina had found out yet.

"No, she doesn't look to good does she?" said Hermione thoughtfully.

"How do you know?" asked Harry suspiciously.

"I went to visit her yesterday," said Hermione simply.

"What! Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, looking scandalised.

"Harry, you don't have monopoly on who visits her…and I just told you."

Harry mouthed like a goldfish for a few seconds, before snapping his mouth shut – of course Hermione was right, it had just surprised him that's all.

"Was she ok?" he finally managed to splutter out.

"Well," shrugged Hermione half-heartedly, "I suppose so, it took a while for me to actually understand her…"

"She wasn't speaking English to _you_?" he asked curiously.

"Not at the beginning, it seemed to take her a while to figure out whether I should be understanding Chinese or whatever it is…" said Hermione with a helpful smile towards Harry, "but I must say, she's a lot better than I thought she would be – depressed maybe, but she's getting there." 

"Do you really think so?" he asked happily, grinning in relief.

"Really."

Hermione tugged at another weed and threw it in the small pile she was creating, while Harry itched to find out more news, he forced himself however, to be cool and as nonchalant as possible.

"So…what did you guys talk about?" he carefully.

Hermione gave him a sidelong glance and smirked slightly, while Harry carefully maintained his gaze on a point a few inches above her ear. She gave a small laugh and Harry couldn't stop his cheeks from turning red.

"Oh, you know, girl talk," said Hermione innocently, much to the infuriation of Harry who glared at her.

"Is that all?" he pressed.

"She wasn't really very forthcoming with information Harry. Anyway you know what she was like last year, it's very hard to get her to tell you anything she doesn't want you to know," said Hermione thoughtfully, "like her father for example. I knew she was odds with him when she came back from her Christmas break – you didn't see, but she'd been crying the whole train ride home."

Harry cast his mind back to that time – he knew she'd felt a little down, but they'd kept their hoods up all the way home, and he doubted he would have realised anyway.

"Did she say anything about _him_?" asked Harry, unable to keep the distaste from lacing his voice.

"No, but then again do you expect her too? If she won't open up to you, then she sure as hell won't open up to me…give her time, things have a way of sorting themselves out."

Harry couldn't help but laugh at this statement – surely Hermione didn't believe in that? After everything that happened, Azkabam emptying, Death Eaters abroad, the rebirth of Voldemort….surely she didn't believe it would all work out for the best.

"Sometimes Harry, all you have is hope," said Hermione quietly, obviously earning more points in divination then than she had in the entire third year.

"I didn't say anything," said Harry, face impassive.

"You didn't need too."

Hermione gave him a look and Harry looked away sheepishly, maybe she was right? What was keeping him going at the moment? Hope…hope that Catalina would be alright, that the auror's could do something, that anything would happen to break the uncertain times they were living in at the moment.

"It's all Ron seems to have left…that or sheer stubbornness," she said sadly, "Poor Percy."

"Do you think he still might be ok…?" asked Harry in a small voice.

"No," she said firmly, "but…all pervading hope tells me he's ok until we see the body, he's not gone until we know it."

Harry could tell Hermione's logical side was trying to overpower her emotions, but he could tell in her eyes that she didn't believe a word she'd just said. Harry gave a heavy sigh, it seemed they didn't have anything exciting or happy to talk about, and they were rewarded a few seconds later by a shadow across his path. They both looked up to see a lanky looking Ron towering over them.

"Ron!" said Hermione excitedly, jumping up and hugged him, which he returned whole-heartedly.

Harry stifled a laugh as they both went very red and suddenly very embarrassed – something's never changed.

"Hey mate," said Harry from his spot on the grass, "I would get up, but you know…I can't really be bothered."

Ron laughed and dropped down ono the grass beside him, followed by Hermione.

"Hey, what are these?" asked Ron suspiciously, picking up one of Hermione's braids.

"Braids, Ron," said Hermione, cheeks flushing for no reason Harry could tell.

"They're pretty. Gryffindor colours as well," said Ron casually.

Harry squirmed – it was one thing for your best friends to be maybe 'going out', maybe not, but it was another thing to have to witness their flirting. 

"I bet those are against school rules," said Harry, purposely baiting her.

"Oh gosh, do you really think so?" she asked in actual horror, while Harry and Ron fought to fix their faces to look stern and serious.

"Yeah, you don't want to get in trouble with McGonagall do you?" asked Ron worriedly.

Hermione looked positively stricken until the two boys began laughing. She gave them a glare and treated them for the silent treatment for about three seconds. It was boiling hot outside and the air was unnaturally still, and it was all the energy the three had to talk, let alone move from their sunbathing spot on the garden weeds. 

"How's you're dad?" asked Harry almost hesitantly.

"Getting better," said Ron with a grin, "I think all that screaming by Gin finally got her name into his head. A lot less confused."

"Really?" asked Harry happily, thrown off track by this almost happy turn of events, "that's great!"

"Yeah, that's fantastic Ron," said Hermione warmly, "I thought for a while back then it would all turn out differently…"

Ron nodded his head in agreement, and Harry had to remind himself that immediately after the Riddle Manor Attack , it was Hermione and Ron who stuck together, it was Hermione and Ron who sat with Mr Weasley, who shared their grief together. Harry had been running around trying to find out what had happened to Wormtail, where Catalina was, when Catalina was getting out, trying to tell everyone what had _really _happened. 

"He's going to be going back to his job at the end of the summer," he said proudly, "nothing can keep him away from muggles and their gadgets."

Harry and Hermione laughed along with Ron, and it was a genuine moment of light relief which they were all glad for. They chatted for a while about meaningless things, then their conversation turned to Lu Tze, and Harry filled them in on everything he had done with the monk since they'd met. 

"He sounds very…mystic," said Ron with a grin.

"Yeah, he's a bit strange," laughed Harry, "but he's cool. He's really smart as well…not book smart, but smart of life if you know what I mean."

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione with a slight frown, maybe she hadn't liked the reference to being 'book smart'.

"Well he's got a saying for _everything_, and he's always calm and unfazed," said Harry with a shrug, "it must be all that meditating."

"So what are you doing at the moment?" asked Ron curiously, eyeing Harry fingers warily. 

"Well, he's been teaching me to set things on fire the past few days, but he's going to be doing some defensive stuff again soon…"

"So what's it like? Is it hard to do?" asked Hermione curiously and Harry grinned at her.

"It's hard to do it the first time, but after that it's just easy…like riding a bike, you never seen to forget," said Harry.

Although he'd actually _never _learned to ride a bike, Lu Tze's use of metaphors had rubbed off on him slightly. Hermione continued to quiz him for some time all about the magus's power and eventually it was only when Ron pretended to fake snore that she shut up.

"How about some dinner?" asked Harry hastily as she glared at Ron.

That's was enough, he'd said the magic words and soon they were trooping into the kitchen. Sirius and Remus were sitting at the kitchen table having a cup of tea, and looked up and grinned as the trio walked in. 

"Hello Ron, Hermione," said Sirius with a wave.

"Hello Sirius!" the chorused, followed by a small wave in Remus's direction, "Hello Professor!"

"How many times to I have to tell you two?" he asked with a sigh, "I'm not your teacher anymore, you can call me Remus if you want."

They nodded with a grin as Harry began to root around in the cupboards for food. But in true nursery rhyme style, the cupboards were bare and he gave a sigh and looked over at the two men.

"Have you not been shopping yet?" he asked in a long-suffering sigh.

"No," said Sirius happily, "have you?"

Remus gave a chuckle and Harry rolled his eyes, "fancy going into town and getting fish and chips?"

"For lunch?" asked Hermione, looking scandalised.

"Yeah cool!" said Ron happily.

"Right," said Harry with a nod as if this sorted it, "is it ok if we go into town?"

"Hey, could we get in the way of the consumption of greasy chips?" asked Sirius with a laugh. 

"Come on guys," said Harry happily.

After locating his wallet they set off down the small moorland road towards the village. Harry was feeling particularly happy, he felt really stupidly important at being allowed to just walk off like this on his own, the new found freedom was still hard to get used to. He was also a little bit happy to be able to pay back all the hospitality Ron had shown him over the years. 

It was another swelteringly hot day and Harry was glad he had a tee shirt on and no jumper. Ron was walking next to Hermione who were laughing and chatting together, flirting shamelessly. He rolled his eyes and let his thoughts wander, and as usual they turned to Catalina. He felt sorry for her, being stuck inside that windowless room when it was so nice outside. He made a firm resolution that on his last visit to her he'd try and get her to go to the hospital gardens for a bit of sunshine…she was pale as a ghost all the time.

In no time at all they were in the village and the ever so familiar team of footballers were on the village green. Ron was watching them interestingly and nudged Harry in the ribs.

"They're playing _football _aren't they Harry," he said importantly, looking pleased he got the name right. 

"Yes they are Ron," said Harry with a grin.

Harry watched the boys for a few minutes, before they spotted him and ran over.

"Hey Harry!" said Greg with a wave.

"Hey Greg, Jack, Nick," acknowledged Harry as Ron looked at the ball curiously.

"Having a good holiday? We haven't seen you for a while," said Jack, eyeing Ron and Hermione curiously. 

"Yeah it's going ok," shrugged Harry, "been a bit busy."

"I know what you mean, coursework is the pits isn't it?" said Greg rolling his eyes as Ron looked at him blankly, "I can't wait to get GCSE's out of the way."

Harry agreed noncommittally and they turned to Ron and Hermione, "and who are your friends?"

"Oh, this is Ron and Hermione," introduced Harry as the two of them gave a shy smile and a couple of quiet 'hellos'.

"Another Londoner? " asked Nick with a grin in Hermione's direction, "you guys will be running the place over soon."

The three boys chuckled and Greg held the ball out to them, "How about that game you promised us Harry? Three on three?"

Harry was about to decline before Ron jumped in, "sure!"

Harry grinned, Ron looked excited at the prospect of playing the muggle game and Hermione frowned. 

Ten minutes later and Ron had devolved into the typical teenage footballer, yelling defensively and tackling quite fiercely the opposite team. Harry swore if he let him stay there for another half an hour he soon have all the football chants down _as well as _the infamous offside rule. Hermione however was being a right girl about it all, playing goalkeeper and shrieking and jumping out of the way whenever the ball was kicked at the net.

"Hermione!" yelled Ron, "you're supposed to _stop _the ball going in, not give it a clear path!"

"I know that Ron!" she shouted back irritably, "But you're kicking it too hard!"

Ron merely shook his head and muttered under his breath before charging off down the pitch like a rampaging bull. Harry grinned for what felt like the first time in _ages_, it was so nice to have a nice _normal_ afternoon, he felt like any other school kid on holiday right at that moment. He even had a laugh when Ron tried to pick up the ball and make a run for it, much to the disgust of the boys around them.

"Hand ball!" they yelled, "We're playing football not Rugby!"

Ron quickly dropped it and looked in confusion at Harry.

__

No hands allowed he mouthed across and Ron nodded, before getting on with a sliding tackle for the ball.

Needless to say they lost, Hermione managed to duck every single one of their 13 goals, while Ron and Harry battled to even get their 3 in. After a while they gave a cheerful wave goodbye and headed to the chip shop, muddy, sweaty and a lot more tired than when they left. 

"Hello darling," came the voice from behind the counter when they walked in, "the usual?"

"No Mrs Bell, I've got friends over today," said Harry importantly as Ron and Hermione gave a wave.

"Oh my," she said looking flustered and putting on her most welcoming smile, "and where are you two from?"

"Ottery St. Catchpole," said Ron with a grin towards Harry as the woman nodded and screwed up her face in concentration.

"Does old Dennis Barker still run the post office there?" 

"I wouldn't be able to tell you," said Ron, trying to hide a grin.

"Oh well, probably not, went to have his hernia done didn't he?" she said with a bright smile, "and what about you dearie?"

"Oh, I'm from London," said Hermione, in her best prefect-voice.

"Really?" asked the woman with a cold eye and suspicious glare, "We don't hold with your type around here."

"My type?" began Hermione angrily before Harry cut in.

"Just two fish and a scampi please!" he said in a loud voice elbowing Hermione sharply in the ribs.

"Coming right up," she said with a parting glare at Hermione.

They finally managed to get away from 'Mad Bell' as Harry had termed her and Hermione Was still spluttering indignantly.

"What did she mean _your type_?" she demanded angrily.

"You know…Londoners in general, tourists…they're a bit of a local community here," explained Harry consolingly.

"Well," huffed Hermione, "_You're _a Londoner!"

"Yes, but I live here now," pointed out Harry before adding conscientiously, "sort of."

Hermione nodded and they sat on the benches and pulled open their bags.

"Mines twice as small as yours!" shouted Hermione a few seconds later as Ron sniggered to himself.

"You should have said you was from the next village then," he said, pointing to Harry's bag, which was overflowing.

"Hmmf," was all Hermione had to say to that, and continued to be in a foul mood until the boys shared out some of their chips with her, if anything for a quiet evening.

*

After another 'morning' of exhausting Magus training, Sirius took him to the hospital for his last ever visit. He wandered off to a local pub, telling him to not wander off and be in and out of the hospital quickly. Catalina was due out that day, her grandparents were picking her up in a little under an hour and when he and Remus approached her room, he was surprised to see her already up and about. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting in uncomfortable silence when he entered the room.

He was surprised to see she was wearing muggle clothes and he wondered where she'd got them from – he'd certainly never seen her in anything other than robes. She was wearing baggy jeans and a heavy muggle jumper, with a sports logo across it.

"Hey Harry," she said softly before turning around.

"Alright?" he asked, walking around the bed.

"Well what do you think?" she asked spreading her arms so he could see her clothes better, "would I pass as a muggle?"

"Definitely," he said, "where did you get the clothes from?"

"One of the nurses bought them for me, apparently they live in a muggle village so I guess I need to fit in."

"Your grandparents?" he asked, sitting on the seat opposite her bed.

"Yeah," she said with a shrug, Harry could feel the worry radiating off her.

"Are you nervous about meeting them?" he asked her.

"Yeah," she said with a shaky laugh, "what if they don't like me?"

"I'm sure they'll love you," said Harry awkwardly, "they're family."

This didn't seem to help any and he suddenly realised maybe that wasn't the best thing to say, taking in her past record.

"How long until they get here?" he asked hastily, trying to change the subject.

"About half an hour…and then I'm out of here forever…" she said, feeling light-hearted for a moment.

"Well you needn't worry if you don't like them," said Harry consolingly, "it's only a week until we're back at school."

"And what a joy that's going to be," she said with a sarcastic look.

Harry shrugged. There was a silence and he looked around the stuffy windowless room for a few moments.

"I know what everyone's saying about me," she said flatly looking at him steadily in the eye.

"What about?" asked Harry, trying to buy time.

"About me. About how I really wasn't under the curse and how I switched sides as soon as I could see _they _were loosing."

"How do you know they're saying that?" he asked simply.

She gave him a look, slightly characteristic of her old self and gave him a grim smile, "The magazines you bought me…they had some interesting articles in them."

"Oh," said Harry dumbly, how did he not think about looking in that first when every other publication seemed to be running the story of their lives?

"It was quite interesting really," she said with a smile that didn't quite meet her eyes, "did you know Witch Weekly has voted you the second most fanciable wizard in England?"

"No way! Really?" he asked in a shocked voice, before turning to her looking slightly put out, "who was number one?"

Catalina looked at him in surprise before laughing. It was a strange sound, but it escaped her lips before she had time to censor it. She hadn't laughed for so long it was so unfamiliar. Harry laughed as well and it was an almost normal few seconds of conversation. Harry couldn't remember the last time they _had _laughed…

"Its someone called Kirley McCormack, a guitarist in some band or other," she said eventually, sobering up slightly.

Harry grinned, it was a strange thought that all these people thought stuff like that when they'd never even _met _any of them. Catalina gave a sigh, and Harry found himself almost happy for the first time in a long while. 

"Yeah," she sighed, sobering up, "apparently, 'Catalina has sunk her claws into the Boy-Who-Lived, but watch his space, their rocky relationship has been a qualified disaster since the beginning and its only time until her true colours shine through.'"

Harry gaped at her unceremoniously, before his mouth stuttered into action, "It doesn't say that does it?"

She gave a bitter laugh, before pulling a stack of magazines from her side table, "oh that's just this one, Witch Weekly…then there's this one, and this one, _this _one was particularly uplifting, then there's this one…"

"I get the picture," said Harry sourly.

She gave a laugh which was humourless and Harry gave an uncomfortable squirm at the article she'd quoted. Relationship? Had their rocky relationship been a qualified disaster since the beginning he wondered, not particularly. I mean they'd had more ups and downs that anyone could count, but it wasn't exactly rocky…

"I don't think the country likes me very much any more."

"Yeah well, screw them," said Harry simply, "_you _know the truth, and _I _know the truth…everyone that _matters_ knows. Leave those who are too stupid to see to their own devices."

She nodded slowly, studying her hands carefully before giving a dry laugh, "the world must be a very simple place for you."

"What do you mean?" he asked frowning slightly, it didn't sound like a compliment.

"Well…you can shut out what everyone says about you, even when its bad, even when nearly everyone around you is against you…you still manage to shut them out," she said with difficulty, before turning to him, "how do you do that?"

Harry frowned even deeper, he didn't remember doing that at all, she seemed to sense this and gave a heavy sigh.

"Its just…everything seems to run off your back, if you don't like it you ignore, I just wondered…if it was something you could, you known, _learn _to do."

Harry felt unbelievably sorry for her, but didn't know what to say. She seemed to understand him better than he did.

"If your waiting for everyone support you'll be waiting a long time," he said finally, the words echoing from his distant memory, "Whenever all the attention got to much for me…I just you know, tried to get on. The people that really mattered knew the truth."

"The people that matter?" she asked him.

"My friends," shrugged Harry, "You know, Ron, Hermione and you…"

"Right," she said, staring at her hands again, as if trying to understand what this meant. 

Obviously Catalina wanted a quick solution to her problem.

"Harry, I think owe you an apology," she said awkwardly, absentmindedly ripping little pieces from one page of a magazine.

"What for?"

"For being so…so like I have been lately," she said, feeling her heart beating far to fast. 

"Don't worry," said Harry, looking down at his hands, "I understand."

She flashed him a grateful look and proceeded to peel off another page, shredding it into thousands of tiny pieces. She looked slightly emotional and Harry let her continue with her own thoughts, she'd talk when she'd talk.

"Its just…its so hard," she burst out angrily, throwing the magazine on the floor, "I don't know what I should be thinking, feeling, _doing_. I just feel so lost, so _suffocated _by this place."

"St Mungo's?" asked Harry quietly. 

She gave him a slight nod, "but not just that…this whole place…_England_. I thought coming back here would finally give me a real home you know, somewhere where I really _belonged_."

"You do belong here," said Harry worriedly.

"But I don't!" she cried, "that's just the point. You speak my language and you act like me but we're _different _you and me Harry."

"We're not as different as you may think," said Harry feeling hurt.

"But we are. You know where you come from, where you belong, but all I ever feel is like I'm not quite understanding what's happening or what I should be doing…I don't even know what language to _think _in for Merlin's sake!"

Harry didn't say anything…what could he say? At that moment he did feel completely different to Catalina, sometimes she just seemed so foreign to him.

"That's why I've decided…once I finish Hogwarts, or maybe before…I'm going to leave."

The statement came out of the blue for Harry and caught him completely off-guard. He felt like he'd been punched in the gut and turned to her in shock.

"You can't do that!" he exclaimed looking scandalised. 

"Why not?" she asked sadly while he spluttered indignantly, "What's keeping me here?"

Me, thought Harry desperately, I'm keeping you here. 

In some corner of his mind he'd always _thought _that once she was ok, that maybe they would…but no. 

Obviously not. 

She obviously didn't like him enough to think he was anything important, and he felt crushed. What _was_ keeping her in England anyway? Certainly not family, not friends, not her school, but most of all not him…He was too busy feeling hurt and rejected that he didn't even notice the look in her eyes, pleading with him to give her a reason. He didn't even feel the sense of hope that was radiating from her. 

"Where would you go?" he asked the floor in a dull voice. 

She sighed heavily and Harry looked across to see her tugging on the sleeve of her robe again, the same ritualised way she had been since he'd visited her this summer. 

"I don't know," she said in a choked sort of voice, "I've not been to many Eastern European countries, I always liked my year in Russia…or South America, maybe I could go to Brazil, its hot there."

"On your own?" he asked, in the same monotone voice.

"Who would go with me?"

Harry frowned at his hands, as the answer arrived at his head faster than he could check it. 

He would. 

He would if she asked him. He turned to tell her this, opening his mouth, trying to find a way to tell her without sounding corny. She looked at him expectantly, black eyes looking more alive than they had in months.

" Maybe-" he began awkwardly before the door was opened unexpectedly, and a figure strode in. 

"Its time to go Catalina," came the warm voice of Dr Rahn, "oh, sorry, hope I wasn't interrupting anything."

"No, you weren't," said Harry, jumping from his seat, beet red.

"Nay?" said Catalina, although it came out more of question as she looked at Harry curiously.

"Your grandparents are here," he said, smiling at her familiar reversion to another language when around him, "do you want to follow me?"

She gave a nod and got up stiffly, again holding the sleeve of her robe down. Harry watched her gloomily, maybe he had just missed his chance of a lifetime. Whatever it was, he could sense the two directions his life had just split into, and wished he was on the other fork. 

However, he had more important things to think about, Catalina was packing all her stuff into a small bag given to her by the hospital. There were only a few things, magazines mostly and things Harry had bought to brighten the place up. She shouldered the bag as Harry checked the drawers, hearing something rattling inside it. Out he pulled a small silver bangle, the one he'd given Catalina for Christmas, their snake eyes glittering in the light.

"You forgot this," he said, holding it out towards her. 

She frowned down at it before she recognised it, as her face lit up in recognition. She summoned it and it was pulled out of Harry's fingers, zooming directly into her hand. Harry couldn't help but frown at this, would it have been too much bother to merely take it out of his hand? 

He didn't say anything however and followed her down the corridor to where two elderly people were standing, both with dark grey hair and the now familiar black eyes. They looked like any normal couple of old age pensioners and they smiled warmly as Catalina came into view, who merely stared back at them defiantly. 

"Catalina, this is Rose and Derek Cotard," said Dr Rahn warmly, "Mr and Mrs Cotard, this is your granddaughter Catalina."

It would have been a strange sight to behold, the reunion of a family, who had never even seen Catalina. The old couple held out a hand for her to shake, but she merely stared at it and back up to them. The old man hastily dropped his hand and fixed her with a warm, yet nervous smile.

"Its very nice to meet you Catalina," he said in a kind Irish lilt, as though speaking to a five year old, "we've waited a long time to see our granddaughter."

She gave them a suspicious stare, and then looked over to Harry, who gave her an encouraging smile. 

"Its nice…to meet you…too…" she said brokenly, looking thoroughly confused at how to speak again.

The old woman cast a worried look at Catalina before smiling firmly and looking across to Harry, "Of course we've heard all about _you_," she said not unkindly.

Harry gave a shrug, "it's nice to meet you Mr and Mrs Cotard."

There was s silence and her grandmother turned to the Dr Rahn briskly, "Thank you for everything you've done doctor."

"Its not a problem," said Dr Rahn with a smile before turning to Catalina, "thank you for making my rounds more interesting."

Harry hid a smile and Catalina looked at him blankly. He sighed, he obviously wasn't expected any thanks from the girl he'd only just heard speak his language. Catalina seemed to be fighting some kind of internal battle and finally blurted out in a weak voice, "Thank you."

The doctor looked at her in surprise, before breaking into a large grin. Obviously that had just made his day.

"It's no problem at all Catalina, and in this circumstance I wish I never seen you again."

She gave a nod and turned to her grandparents again.

"Let's go then Catalina," said the man in his strong accent, "we've got dinner waiting for you back home, so we have."

With one final wave to Dr Rahn, Harry followed Catalina and her grandparents out of the building. It was a bright summer's day and Catalina looked up at the sun and squinted. Her grandparents were walking in front and she fell back in step with Harry some distance behind. No one seemed to be taking any notice of them Harry thought gratefully. 

Suddenly however, Catalina turned to him with a panicky look in her eyes. They darted towards the two people ahead and then back to him.

"Harry," she whispered fearfully, "Someone's watching us."

Harry immediately looked around the densely packed courtyard. It was bustling with people, but none that he could see looking particularly suspicious. Nevertheless he slipped his wand into his wand silently, he may not be able to use magic outside school but he could still threaten someone with it. Catalina was also looking around quickly, panic etched across her face and becoming more and more agitated as time went on. 

"Can you see them?" he murmured to her, scanning the crowd again.

"No," she whispered fearfully, her eyes glistening slightly, "but I can feel them looking at me."

The hairs of the back of Harry's neck stood on end and he whipped around, seeing a dark green robe swish into the crowd. He contemplated going after the person, but decided that maybe it wasn't such a good idea. Catalina was looking pale faced and panicky and he turned to her with a fake, confident smile.

"It was probably nothing," he said reaching out and grabbing her arm, "come on."

She gave a huge start when Harry touched her and reached out and pushed him away violently. He stumbled backwards and looked at her steadily.

"Don't," she said harshly, tugging on her sleeve tightly.

"I'm sorry-" he stuttered, feeling a little taken aback, before recovering a taking a deep breath, "we better catch your grandparents back up."

She gave him a sorrowful look, as if she was about to apologise before shaking it and walking away. Harry watched her walk off and shook his head, he'd really thought he was getting somewhere with her. He told himself she was just worried about being followed, and he couldn't blame her, there was rumour to be a price on her head now, Dumbledore had told him that much. Firelight needed to get rid of her. 

He jogged and caught up with them, turning to the grandparents with a slight smile.

"It's been very nice to meet you but I've got to go and find my godparent," he said shaking their hands before turning to Catalina.

"Will I see you before Hogwarts?" he asked slightly nervously.

"Maybe," she shrugged, "see you later."

"Yeah," he said slightly disappointed, "see you later."

He watched as the three of them walked into the floo station, Catalina keeping a wary distance from the two people in front of her, but not getting to far away. She didn't even look back.

Harry gave a sigh before walking off to find 'The Union'. He soon located it in the main square, and soon found Sirius chatting to the barmaid with a pint in hand. 

"Ready," said Harry, sliding into the stool next to him.

"Alright Harry, how'd it go?" asked Sirius, looking genuinely interested.

He gave a noncommittal shrug and remarked to himself the difference in Sirius's approach to her now. Last he had practically forbidden him from seeing her, and now he was always asking after her…It was strange since he'd never actually _met _her, which was a maybe a good thing now, she'd probably drop kick him if he insulted her in any way.

"Well, home we go," said Sirius, draining his drink and giving a cheeky grin and wave at the barmaid.

Harry rolled his eyes, doesn't the man ever get tired of flirting?

*

****

AN/ Praise the God of Bank Holiday Weekends for giving me this opportunity to write some more to this story! So we _finally _met Hermione again, and got to see Ron again. 

What did you think of the Catalina/Harry scene? Poor sod, he's fallen hard for her now and doesn't even _really _realise it! What do you think, it is mutual?

Reviews as always are welcome! 

BloodRedSword - What's this about triple gems blessing me? Lol. Thanks for the review, I haven't actually _started _my exams yet…they begin on the 14th, so I may not be able to post as often as I would like. But I like to sneakily do a bit of writing after my revision, a nice bit of escapism!

Emilia - Yes the first chapter of this fanfiction is a reworking of the Prologue to Romeo and Juliet, with a slight twist on some parts to make it applicable to the story. The reason I chose it is not only because of the years I was torturously exposed to it at school, but because I LOVE Baz Lhurmans movie "Romeo and Juliet", and thought it fitted into my story! I do like all of Shakespeare's stuff, he was a right clever fellow! Lol.

Esperanza - Once again thanks for the review! I am attempting to lighten the mood, we had the happy scene before of them playing a bit of footie! Was that good enough for the moment? Anyway, its nearly back to Hogwarts now so it'll all become more interesting (and I may even introduce a plot!)

tokfia - Thanks for the review, and yes I can completely sympathise with him as well having tog et up that early, its too late to be night, but too early to be morning, poor guy. He'll get used to it, or have a psychotic episode! I'm actually studying archaeology, history and geography at the moment, but archaeology is my real passion and prospective career (yes I know I'm weird)

****

Thanks all! Please review and tell me what you think! Any ideas would be MOST WELCOME!


	11. Wingardium Leviosa

****

~*~*~ Chapter Ten ~*~*~

Wingardium Leviosa

The next morning he stumbled out of Lu Tze's fireplace 15 minutes late, he had turned off his alarm clock and fallen asleep stupidly. He hadn't even had his breakfast yet and gave a hasty apology to his professor, who was sat meditating on the floor.

He didn't reply. Harry shifted nervously, before saying a little more loudly, "sorry I'm late Sir…"

After a few more minutes of silence Lu Tze cracked an eye open and said, "You have made me wait for you, so now, you must wait for me."

Harry nodded shamefacedly, and sat down as well, feeling rather bored after half and hour of doing nothing but almost falling to sleep.

"Right," said the monk suddenly.

Harry opened his eyes to see him standing above him, he hadn't even heard him get up…

"Now. Ball," demonstrated Lu Tze waving one in front of his face, "catch!"

He threw the ball straight at Harry who instinctively reached out and caught it. Lu Tze frowned at him, as Harry handed it back.

"No. Ball. Catch," he repeated, throwing it at him again.

Harry caught it again, confusion written all over his face. Lu Tze took it off him with the same look of frustration and repeated the thing all over again.

"I don't understand," said Harry eventually, feeling frustrated himself now.

"Right, well _listen_ to me. Ball. Left hand behind back," he commanded, "catch!"

Harry caught it with his right hand.

"Right," nodded Lu Tze, "Ball. Right hand behind back. Catch!"

Harry caught it with his left hand.

"Right. Ball. Both hands behind back. Catch!"

The ball bounced off Harry's forehead.

"Catch it!" said Lu Tze, picking the ball up, "again!"

It bounced off his shoulder this time.

"_Catch it!"_

"I can't catch it without my hands!" said Harry through gritted teeth.

"Yes _you_ can. How about we up the ante? Rubber ball," he said before tossing it up in the air lightly, when it returned to his hand it made a dull smack.

He dropped it on the floor and gave a huge thump and made a small crack in the floor.

"Metal ball," said Lu Tze, showing Harry the newly transfigured iron ball that now looked like a canon ball.

Harry gulped nervously.

"Right. Ball. Both hands behind back. Catch!"

Harry dodged just in time, as the ball whistled overhead and made a large dent in the wall.

"You're gonna kill me!" he said angrily.

"_Not_ if you catch it," said Lu Tze calmly.

"Ball. Both hands behind back. Catch!"

Harry flinched and threw out his hands in front of him. A few seconds later and there was still no concussion or pain and he peeked his eyes open slightly. There hovering in front of his hands was the ball, wrapped in white light. He dropped his hands in shock and immediately the ball fell to the floor with a _thunk_

"Better," said Lu Tze with a grin. 

"Oh," said Harry, suddenly realising what that exercise was all about, "How did I do that?"

"Wingardium Leviosa, a levitation spell," explained Lu Tze, "I have noticed that your powers are most present when you are threatened."

"Right," nodded Harry looking at his finger tips in quiet awe…he still couldn't believe this.

"Now, rubber ball," he began again, "catch."

He managed to 'catch' the ball about 5 times out of ten and Lu Tze practised until Harry's arms were sore and his head was pounding. He was never completely happy until he could do whatever they were practising without fault. 

He had soon progressed onto two hands, with Lu Tze providing a number of objects for him to practise on. It looked slightly silly he decided, with his hands dancing like a puppeteers, controlling the things. His memory reminded him of something as he watched a piece of ribbon snaked through the air.

"Catalina once told me she learnt to do this when she was three," he said conversationally, remembering the show she'd put off in the common room one evening. 

"Yes, it was I that taught her it," said Lu Tze, watching him from the floor, "She lived in China for a year as a toddler before she moved away, not to return until her first year at school. She is a most gifted Magus, more so than many I have known…maybe this is why she is such a danger."

"She's not dangerous," said Harry sharply.

"You misunderstand. A person can be a danger _without _ever wrongdoing. Power _is_ dangerous but knowledge is even more so. A little knowledge is a dangerous thing indeed."

Harry nodded slightly, he understood what he meant. 

"Do you know that the most dangerous man in China of the 15th century was a man known as Hung Yin Shu?" asked Lu Tze.

"What did he do?" asked Harry fearfully.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" he asked in confusion, "why was he the most dangerous man in China?"

"He was an inventor, and lived in a small hut at the base of a mountain, surrounded by forest…he never went more than 10 miles away from his home all of life…" began Lu Tze, painting the picture for Harry, "He spent most of his life painting and writing books on wildlife."

Harry nodded, still not understanding how this peaceful sounding man was so dangerous.

"But, in these books, in the margins, he drew and invented…he drew pictures of weapons which could kill millions in one go, that could kill without a mark being left on the person, he drew machines capable of taking over cities without resistance…"

"That's terrible!" said Harry, looking shocked.

"You see the man, had never even been to a city, but he dreamed of such places, and as his mind focused on the wildlife around him, it wandered to these horrific weapons of war. He believed his plans would never be used because they were so cruel, because people would see how evil they were are were too good to use them. It was a mere hobby for him."

"But people would have used them!" said Harry, "there would be evil people that would do anything for those sort of weapons!"

"And that is what happened," said Lu Tze grimly, "when he died, his books were sold and fell into the wrong hands. The plans were used for the bloodiest battle in history…it lasted for 150 years and over 3 million people were killed."

Harry gaped, what a terrible story! He understood what Lu Tze had meant now. Knowledge was dangerous, almost as much as power. Because power can't be shared, but knowledge and ideas are like a disease…they spreads like wildfire, infecting the minds of people.

"So you see, a man who lived alone for his entire life, met only a few other people in his whole lifetime and did nothing but care for his garden and the animals around him, caused the death of 3 million people…Yes knowledge is dangerous indeed. That is why Catalina, you, me…we are all more dangerous than you can imagine. You have seen what happens when the power gets into the hands of the wrong person."

"Yes," he said quietly, "yes I have."

His thoughts travelled back to the Riddle Manor Attack, to what Catalina could _really _do. Forget levitating little balls and ribbons, she brought the entire manor to the ground, she could do anything. He thoughtfully placed his hand on the scar stretching across his stomach.

"Maybe that is enough today then," said Lu Tze thoughtfully, "you go off home and practise what we've done today. You've worked very hard, so tomorrow be here at 5.30 ok?"

"Ok," he said nodding, "thanks a lot."

"It is ok Harry," he said with a smile, "I'll see you tomorrow."

With a wave Harry stepped through the fire and walked into the living room. Sirius looked up from his newspaper curiously, "we weren't expecting you back for another few hours."

"Early day," said Harry in relief.

"Well, there's an owl waiting for you in the garden," he said waving a bandaged hand at him, "it's quite ferocious."

Harry gave a laugh and walked into the garden to see a large brown owl sitting on the metal rail of some kind of sculpture (Harry knew for a fact it was an old lawnmower). He walked over cautiously and reached out and stroked the owl, which nuzzled his hand happily. Very ferocious. He pulled the letter off the bird, who merely waited for him to read it.

He sat down on the grass and looked at the writing on the front of the muggle envelope, he instantly recognised it. With a grin and a nervous flutter of his stomach he opened it and pulled out a torn page of a notebook, covered in familiar looped writing.

__

To Harry,

This is Catalina. I hope this letter finds you and your family well. 

Family? Harry thought bizarrely. 

__

I was just writing a quick letter to say sorry. About before? About leaving you at St. Mungo's. I really am sorry, I was just…upset I guess about leaving. And worried. Sorry.

Harry frowned, she sounded slightly incoherent. 

__

It's rather boring here. I'm finding living with Rose and Derek very hard, they are being very nice to me, but I don't really know them.

I don't recognise anyone and I am worried about being so far away. There aren't any protective wards in the house and all the journalists keep knocking on the door. I don't think Rose and Derek like that.

I would invite you to come but I don't think it will be possible. I suppose I will see you on September the first, I am almost looking forward to the safety of the castle. 

I don't really have much to say, I hope your lessons are going well, see you on Monday.

Catalina

-xx-

Harry put the letter down and looked at the owl thoughtfully. Her letter didn't really tell him much, and he was looking forward to the beginning of school even more now he knew Catalina would be going, He had began to worry she would never make it.

He gave something a bit of thought before getting up and hurrying into the living room where Sirius was reading the paper now. He hovered uncertainly next to the sofa.

"What?" asked Sirius suspiciously, not taking his eyes off the paper.

"I was just wondering if a friend could come over tomorrow?" he asked nervously.

"Hermione and Ron are welcome any time, you don't need to ask," said Sirius with a laugh.

"Well, its not actually Ron or Hermione…" began Harry, "it's just I got a letter off Catalina…"

"Oh," said Sirius, looking up in surprise, "right."

"Can she?" 

"I suppose so, yes, of course she can…" he said, looking only slightly troubled.

"Great," said Harry excitedly, "I really appreciate it!"

Sirius grinned at Harry's expression and he watched as Harry sat down at the table and scribbled a letter on the back of the letter Catalina had sent.

__

To Catalina,

Thanks for the letter, it was good to hear from you. I hope things improve with your family, Sirius and Remus are fine. Remus passed his auror's exam a few days ago, so he and Sirius are going to start jobs in the ministry in September. 

Everything's a bit quiet here too, just waiting for school to start now. The lessons are going well, Lu Tze's really cool. Sirius did want to know if you'd like to come over to ours for the day if you want to? I can show the exciting sights of West Devon such as the village and the…village. It's a bit dull but you know.

If you can, come over tomorrow at about 1pm, I live at 'The Gatehouse, Princetown', we're connected to the floo network (sometimes). If not, I'll see you Monday,

Harry

A few minutes later the 'ferocious' owl was flying off into the sunset.

"Anything interesting?" asked Harry, looking at Sirius still studying the newspaper.

"Maybe…" he said distractedly, "Just a bit of an odd article that caught my eye."

"What's it about?" asked Harry settling into the seat next to Sirius.

"Poland of all places," said Sirius, "It seems that the headmaster of the _Polska Szkola z Czary_ has told the ministry that it has been broken into a number of times over the holidays."

"Polska what?" asked Harry in confusion. 

"_Polska Szkola z Czary, _thePolish School of Magic," explained Sirius.

"Oh, well that isn't that strange is it, I mean break-ins happen…"

"Not in magical schools they don't, and not five times," said Sirius, "Can you imagine if Hogwarts was broken into just once?"

Harry had to agree, when Sirius had got into the school in his third year there certainly was uproar. 

"Dumbledore's got his eye on places like this," said Sirius ruffling the paper, "he thinks the Death Eaters had fled to the continent, we've got spies over there but so far not a word…which is strange after the fuss they made last year."

"Yeah, it is," said Harry, "I thought they must just be biding their time before making one huge attack."

"I think you're right, but Firelight must have a huge base of his own connections across the world by now, the ministry have been trying to track his movements since he left but it's impossible, he's in a different country every month!"

"But I thought they did a country a year?" asked Harry.

"_Catalina_ did a country a year, but they had school terms to go and tour didn't they?" said Sirius with a sigh, "we've got a file this thick on his travels."

"What are you trying to do then?" asked Harry, casting an eye over the article himself.

"Trying to find where he got to, so we can try and place spies to see in his influence. I mean when they left here after your parents…well, when they left they travelled _everywhere, _and I mean everywhere. It quietened to a certain degree when she went to school, but not nearly enough. They could be anywhere."

"So what do you think this means?" asked Harry waving the newspaper at him.

"I'm not sure. We need to know what the school has that's worth stealing, that's worth breaking all those protections to get in…it must have been Dark Magic, only that's strong enough to get past them. We better keep our eye on this," said Sirius thoughtfully, "I better talk to Dumbledore about it."

Harry nodded as Sirius walked out of the room and looked over the article again, key words jumping out, _nothing was stolen, no motive, no suspects_. 

It was all very strange indeed. 

*

Harry got an owl that night at ten 'o'clock. He had just been watching tv with Remus and Sirius, who, after being born to magical families, were still enthralled by soap operas and new all the characters from _Eastenders _and there past history. They swore blind it was merely muggle studies, and that they didn't actually enjoy it, but were always very upset if the missed an episode. Harry always felt rather normal, sitting in front of the tv eating dinner. It was the same owl, and bore a small note that looked hastily written.

__

Harry,

I'll see you tomorrow then, thank you for the invite. I can't wait to get out of this house, it's really freaking me out. I need to see a familiar face.

Catalina

-xx-

Harry frowned at the bizarre note, she sounded really…strange. But he consoled himself, she seemed eager to see him, which could only be a plus.

"Is that from Catalina?" asked Remus kindly.

"Yeah," said Harry before shaking off the funny feeling he had, "yeah, she can come over tomorrow."

"Good," said Sirius, "so we finally get to meet the illusive Catalina? It's only taken a year."

Harry gave a grin, he was sure they'd get on like a house of fire, which he'd always thought of as a curious phrase. A house of fire didn't really put him in mind of getting on well together, merely a blazing inferno. If all else fails, they could swap inmate stories about Azkaban he thought grimly, though he didn't dare voice this out loud. 

"Will she be staying for tea?" asked Remus. 

"I don't know," he said, before looking down at the letter and smiling, "yes. Definitely."

"Oh dear," he said worriedly, "what shall we cook?"

"I'm sure you don't have to do anything special," said Harry hastily.

"Fish and chips it is then," said Sirius, rubbing his hands together excitedly. 

*

Catalina sat on the low bed, staring at a photograph in her hand. There was her mom, there was her…dad, there was her. One big happy family.

Then, at least.

She slowly tore away part of the photo, and smiled down at it with a cold look in her eyes, feeling somewhat triumphant. She screwed up the cold, staring figure of Charles Firelight, and set it on fire, watching it mirthlessly as it burnt and shrivelled into nothing. She cocked her head to one side and studied the new improved picture. Just her and her mom, the way it was going to be from now on. 

Except…maybe not. She slowly tore away the picture of her mother. She knew her grandparents weren't telling her something and she knew what it was.

Her mother was dying. 

Somehow this thought didn't bother her too much, and for those that didn't understand her, they would think there was certainly something wrong with the girl that had sat in silence all day in the same position on her bed. 

And the reason for her emotionless personae was this: Catalina Firelight was so out of touch with reality these days, she didn't know what to believe anymore. It was frankly ludicrous to imagine that her mother was going to die very soon. It was frankly ludicrous that her father would switch to the other side, that he would become a _Death Eater _of all things, that he would do _that_ to his daughter. That he would allow the things that had happened to her happen. 

He was supposed to protect her.

The only time she ever felt like she could understand the world, the only time she felt part of it was when she was around Harry. He was so normal yet so abnormal. The savoir of the wizarding world, and the average boy-next-door. She preferred Just Harry to Harry Potter. He was her anchor now. But there was a secret she was keeping from him, one she didn't know how to voice, how could she tell him?

For the second time that morning, Catalina got of her bed and walked over to her trunk. She knelt in front of it, and ran a finger across the deep red grain. Acacian Firespitter wood. This trunk had followed her across the world. It was carved with a thousand signatures, of friends from distant parts, all done on the last tearful farewell. One final remark before she never saw them again. She had reserved a special place for Harry's signature. On the lid, so wherever she was in the world, she would be able to look at that a remember him. Just how he was when she left.

She didn't want to leave here, but in the end she knew she was going to be driven out. No matter what Harry thought. And maybe one day she'd come back and meet him again. 

She brushed a tear away frustratingly trying to push all thoughts of that from her head. She squared her shoulder and reached in for the thing she was looking for. Her trembling fingers curled around the items instantly.

She pulled them out and sat on her hunches and spread them across her lap. Fifteen blood-red parchment envelopes stared back at her, each with only her name written on the front in black ink. 

With badly shaking hands she unfurled yesterdays addition. It seemed so unreal even to her unbalanced world she thought to herself as she stared at the writing. 

__

I count the days until we meet again my love, you haunt my every thought.

She choked back a sob. It was so stupid, it was only words on a piece of paper, but they were ruining her life. They weren't even threatening, but in a way they were more so than any death threat could ever contain. A smart person would realise that Catalina knew this person, that she had met them before. 

And they'd be right.

Catalina did know this person, and she feared him more than she feared Voldemort, more than she feared her own father, and more than she feared herself, put together. She lived in constant terror that this person would meet her once again, because she knew he'd already found her. He was watching her, had been watching her for months. Right now, she thought panic squeezing her chest, right now he was watching her. 

There was a tap at her window, and she spun around in panic, nearly fainting with fright when she saw the blackbird sitting there, when she saw what it grasped in its talons. 

Another red letter.

She knew if she ignored it, the bird would sit there staring at her until she gave in, acting as a second pair of eyes to the sender, following her every move. She could barely stop shaking as her fingers slipped on the latch, but the bird fought until it got in. She breathed deeply and approached the bird slowly, pulling the letter away with a shudder.

The black writing stared back at her, fluttering to the floor where she joined it, crying into her hands at the unfairness of her life. She'd done nothing to anybody, she'd been a good person all her life, and this was the way it repaid her. The words stared back at her accusingly;

__

A love like ours will last until the stars fade,

until the moon is gone,

until the world is covered in ice and beyond.

Until the end of time.

With a choked sob she snapped the letter shut, hoping to stop the words that were echoing around her head. She felt sick and dirty, like the letters were poisonous. Every time she opened one of them she was engulfed in a dirty black cloud of evil, suffocating her until she couldn't breathe. 

In one movement she bundled the letters together, binding them tightly with string and pushing them deep into her trunk. She stood up and wondered wildly what she was going to do. Wait till he stopped writing to her? Ignore them? Or tell someone?

She should tell Harry. He would know what to do, he would help her. But she was so frightened at what his reaction would be when he found out. Would he hate her? Would he be upset? Would he turn her away? He was all she had left now, she couldn't loose him for a second time. 

She decided she couldn't tell anyone. It would just be her secret, she could deal with him. She straightened up her skirt and pulled the sleeves of her shirt down tightly. Without a word to her grandparents she stepped into the flames of the fireplace.

"The Gatehouse."

*

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AN/ Well exams tomorrow morning can only mean one thing…updating my HP story! Have I got screwed up priorities or what? 

Hope you liked this chapter, a little random I know, but at least we got a little bit of Harry's training over and done with! And Order meeting SOON! What will they say?

BloodRedSword - Good Luck for your exam on the 16th of May! What's it in? I've got one on the 14th, so as you can tell, I'm revising well. I completely understand about the Triple Gems now! Thanks for the blessing! I feel loved!

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Darksbane - Glad you like it! And don't worry, things WILL get moving with regards to C/H soon, but there is a reason for the hesitation! Honest! I'm not _really _some psychotic lone writer really!

Esperanza - Hey ho Ez! I think you'll like the _next _chapter if you like the Ronnie and Herm flirting football scene from the last chapter! I'm going to shed a little light on their relationship! Lols. Maybe you can guess now whose watching them? Thanks for your reviews!

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Olivier - Sorry if the C/H side is moving a little slow! But there _is _a reason for that! It'll all become clear soon, hopefully this last chapter shed a little light on the subject! Thanks for being Number One to review the last chapter!

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Preciousgirl - Heya chuck! You're one of the only one's who guessed about Catalina's stalker, Congrats!. She _thought _it was a Daily Prophet person because of their article the next day...but was it them? Maybe this last chapter told you a little more?! 

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Remus Lupin - Your review caused me to have a major meltdown _China syndrome _style! I checked it out and you are RIGHT! All these years I have been reading Azkaban wrong! I've always thought it ended with an M! Can you believe that?! I was so upset I hadn't realised for so long…and I call myself a fan?! I've read the book about 30 times and I NEVER noticed. I feel shameful! You're right about Bitchy Ginny, but at least Arthur's getting better! I really liked your site! How can I get involved?

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Riser155 - I liked your idea, and it's coming along soon! But I have to say a big nuh-uh to your guess on Mr Stalker. Close, but nor cookie! Thanks for ALL of your reviews!

tokfia - I'm glad you liked the last chapter! Sorry this ones a little bit…random! And also dark as well! But Catalina comes over in the next chappie, so that's not as bad! And believe me, I am weird, and darn proud of it too! I hope you enjoy what ever you'll do, taking a gap year is always good if you're stuck for ideas for uni courses. I was going to do one, but I'm flat broke and my family can't afford to send me anywhere lol! Thanks for the review!

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COMING UP ON THE NEXT EPISODE…Catalina meets Sirius and Remus, Harry has some shock news about Hermione and Ron and Remus tries to cook SOUP!

Isn't blue a lovely colour for a review box? hint hint

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	12. It's Chicken Soup

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AN/ Welcome Ladies, Gentlemen and West Bromich Albion Supporters! Today, I am pleased to say we have 9 pages of font size 10 for your delight! 

~*~*~ Chapter Eleven ~*~*~

It's Chicken Soup

Harry's lesson with Lu Tze was longer than expected it to be, and he supposed it was to make up for yesterday's early finish. By the time he got out it was 12.30 and he had less than half an hour before Catalina was arriving yet he was already exhausted and had wanted to get some sleep first. He wasn't made for all these early starts and late nights.

Lu Tze handed Harry a small package wrapped in brown paper before he left, explaining it was a present for Catalina, accompanied by his best wishes for her. Harry smiled at the old mans thoughtfulness and with a wave, endured another gut wrenching trip through the countries floo network back to the Gatehouse. He knew Sirius would still be out at his meeting with Dumbledore, and as such was surprised to hear low voices coming from the kitchen. The Gatehouse didn't entertain guests very often, and even then it was only old friends of the two or a few Order members with more news. 

Harry dropped into the sofa with exhaustion, deciding to give the meeting a bit of space, and set about unlacing his boots. He pulled off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily, Lu Tze was really working him hard and he didn't know whether it was supposed to be so, but he was always exhausted after these long sessions of magic. After a while he heard the voices die down and his thirst got the better of him and he conscientiously crept into the kitchen. 

"Ah, Harry, how was your lesson?" came Remus's voice as he attempted to sneak into the fridge. 

Harry looked over curiously and realised with a jolt that the person in a 'meeting' with Remus was none other than Joseph Savoir, the Minister of Magic himself. He stared at the man open-mouthed, hand hovering over the fridge, carton of juice forgotten.

"Harry?" asked Remus with a frown.

"Er, fine. It was fine," said Harry, trying to recover from the shock of seeing the country's most influential wizard sitting at the kitchen table in between Harry's dirty washing and Remus's textbooks.

"Hello again Harry," said the Minister warmly.

"Hello," he said stupidly, before adding conscientiously, "Sir."

"How are the holidays going?" he asked kindly, with his trademark Dumbledore-like stare.

"Good," replied Harry weakly, feeling slightly conscientious. 

"Is Lu Tze teaching you much?" he asked with a twinkle in his dark eyes.

Harry didn't even bother to feel surprised that Savoir knew this, "Yeah, he's an brilliant teacher."

"Excellent," he said happily, "I was just talking to Remus about the Orders duties this year."

"Oh really?" asked Harry interestedly, wandering over to the table and sitting down opposite him, "what have you decided?"

"The Order will of course continue," he said in a business-like way, "a meeting tomorrow night should clarify things for everyone."

"Tomorrow night?" asked Harry in surprise.

He shouldn't have been though, he had wondered if they would ever meet again. It had been months since Catalina's trial, and the last time they had met was just before that. He assumed Dumbledore was still conducting his own private meetings though, as he had with Remus and Sirius earlier that month. 

"Yes, a full meeting. I expect I'll see you there?" he asked, standing up and retrieving a number of documents off the table.

Harry looked down at them, but they were hastily shuffled away, and a warning look off Remus was enough to tell him it was for private eyes only. 

"Yeah, see you there," said Harry curiously, watching as the two men disappeared into the next room. 

He glanced at the clock, Catalina was due any moment now and he tried to pass the time quickly, by doing odd jobs like actually doing the washing up. He was in the middle of stacking the wet plates when he felt the slight tingle and small rush of emotions. They weren't huge shocks anymore, he guessed after time you just got used to it. He hastily wiped his wet hands on his jeans and walked through to the living room to see Catalina standing on the hearth rug, looking at the photo's on the curiously. She had all of her hair pulled up into a high ponytail, and Harry tried to think about a time when she'd ever seen her with her hair up. 

"Morning." 

She spun around quickly with a hand on her heart, "Harry? You scared me!"

"Sorry," he said with a grin.

"It's ok," she said weakly, "I was about to come and look for you…"

"I heard you come in," he explained, flicking soap suds off his hands absent-mindedly.

"Right…So, this is where you live?" she asked curiously, looking around the heavily cluttered room.

"At the moment," he said with a shrug, "I thought maybe next year I'd get a place of my own, you know, a little flat or something."

She nodded and looked around again, slightly nervously, "is anyone in?"

"Remus is about, Sirius is out for the afternoon."

"Will he be back before I go?" she asked as casually as possible, though he could feel the fear coming off her.

"Yeah he should be," he admitted, "though you needn't worry, he's looking forward to meeting you. He promised to be nice."

She gave him a small grin which Harry was pleasantly surprised to see, she seemed to be quite happy to be there and had lost some of her pale pallor after coming out of the windowless hospital room. She was still however, looking pale and tired, but it was a marked improvement since he'd first seen her this holiday.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, well trained in the art of entertaining guests, "we've actually got some edible food in the house somewhere I'm sure."

"Yeah go on then," she said massaging her stomach, "I missed breakfast."

Harry led the way to the kitchen, and she sat at one of the high stools to the counter as he rummaged around, shouting out the choices on today's menu from the dark depths of the cupboards. He was buttering bread when Remus walked in, face obscured by the large pile of books that were precariously balanced about his person. 

"Harry? Are you in here?" came his muffled voice, "you couldn't give me a hand could you?"

Harry dashed over, trying to stop the whole pile falling to the floor jenga-style.

"Is she here yet?" he asked worriedly as the stack began to diminish, "only I thought we could maybe tidy the place up a bit first…"

"Er, Remus…"

"I know, I know. But the place is a mess, we don't want her thinking we live like pigs," he continued as Harry tired to butt in.

"Remus-"

"We ought to make a good impression," he continued on oblivious to Harry's objections, "I know you really like her and I feel we should make the effort as well. Well, speaking for myself personally, though I'm sure Sirius feels the same way…"

"Remus!" wheedled Harry, as Catalina gave him an embarrassed look.

"And we definitely should do something proper for dinner, maybe we could use that thing in the corner…what's it called?"

"The cooker?" asked Harry, momentarily side tracked from his attempts at the image of the oven actually being used, it was more than his brain could take in.

"Yes, that's the one. Now, I read somewhere you can make soup from a chicken right…and we've got some left over from that curry the other night. What do you think, does Catalina like chicken?"

"Why don't you ask her yourself?" laughed Harry, pulling a book that was obscuring his face from the pile.

He laid eyes on Catalina and they bulged in a most comical way.

"Hullo," he said weakly, tottering over to the kitchen table and dropping the books in a shower of pages, then scurrying back over to his previous position.

"Hello," she said shyly, though Harry could tell she was fighting not to laugh. 

Poor Remus, Harry thought, he looked completely lost for a few minutes. He composed himself slightly and gave a firm smile.

"It's very nice to meet you at last," he said.

"You too…" she said, slightly nervously, her whole appearance seeming to shrink under the stare of the other to. 

"Harry's told us so much about you," said Remus kindly, causing Harry to blush even more than before, if it was possible. 

"All good I hope?" she asked, giving Harry a sidelong look.

"Naturally," he said with a smile towards Harry, who merely blushed and looked at the ceiling in despair.

"How's Ireland?" asked Remus, recovering enough and settling into his professor-like voice.

"It's nice," she said in a small voice, "as countries go."

"Yes, Harry's told me all about your travels, I suppose England a little bit boring after you've seen the sights of the world."

"It definitely different to how I imagined," she said, tugging on her sleeve subconsciously, "very…er, green."

"Ah," said Remus wisely, "that'll be the rain."

Catalina nodded and Remus gave Harry a small thumbs up. One down, one to go, he thought dryly. He sure as hell was apprehensive of the next meeting, Sirius _had _promised to be nice, but…well his version of nice and everyone's else version of nice sometimes didn't exactly mean the same thing Harry had come to realise. 

"Harry's been looking forward to you coming," said Remus warmly, "he's tidied up the kitchen specially…"

"Remus!" said Harry with a glare that said 'please shut up now before I make you'.

"What? You have!" he said, snickering to his own joke, "Aw look I've made him embarrassed. My work here is done."

Catalina gave a laugh at Harry's expense, and Remus beamed happily, obviously he was happy to have embarrassed him sufficiently. Harry listened with half an ear as Catalina politely answered Remus's questions, and continued to make sandwiches. He was quite surprised at her willingness to speak in English to him, she must either like him or be trying for Harry's sake. Both of which were good. He could tell she was still nervous, and there was a powerful tide of worry and fear hidden underneath and thick layer of fake-cheerfulness. Harry didn't think anything of it, he was used to that now. 

"Well, I'm sure Harry doesn't want this old man cramping his style," said Remus in his best 'dude' voice, "I'm just going to do some research."

"Ok," said Harry with a smile, pushing a plate towards Catalina.

"Now behave yourselves," he said, waggling his finger at the two with an admonishing tone.

Harry gave an embarrassed laugh, and set about hiding his face in the cupboard for a few minutes as he put things away. Catalina chewed thoughtfully, and he could feel her watching him work. When he was sure his face had returned to his normal colour he walked over to the counter and sat on top, eating his own sandwich in silence.

"He's nice," she said giving him a sidelong look.

Harry let out a sigh of happiness, "thank God…it seems the only way he seems to be able to put people at ease is to embarrass me…"

She gave an equally embarrassed laugh, and looked around the kitchen before asking him in a slightly timid voice, "did you really clean up the kitchen?"

"Yeah," laughed Harry, "can't tell can you?"

She gave a shrug and concentrated on her sandwich, pulling off the crusts absentmindedly. There was a long silence and Harry cast his mind around desperately for a topic of conversation. 

"I saw Hermione last week," she said suddenly, "she came and visited me."

"Yeah she said," Harry told her, "talk about anything interesting?"

"Not really," she said, avoiding his eyes for a few seconds, "but she did tell me something shocking…"

"What?" he asked curiously.

"Did you know that Ron _kissed _Hermione before they left Hogwarts?"

"WHAT?!" spluttered Harry, falling off the counter in surprise.

A few seconds later a pale face rose above the tabletop like the new moon. Harry, it seemed, had lost all ability to speak and Catalina laughed at the look on his face.

"Don't look so surprised!" she said, "you knew they've been a 'nearly couple' since I met them!"

"Yeah, well…_nearly_…that's the key word here…" said Harry faintly, "when? Where? _How_?"

Catalina giggled outright at this and Harry's face split into a wide (albeit dazed) grin.

"Well, it was the last day of term, when you were in a meeting or something or other…Hermione was just reading a book in the common room, when Ron turned up," she said with a smirk on her face.

"What, and he just, _threw _himself on her?" asked Harry in disgust.

"Basically," shrugged Catalina with a laugh as Harry visibly gulped.

"What did Hermione do?" he whispered in dread.

"She _slapped _him, right across the face," she said as Harry whooped in delight, "_before_, she kissed him back."

That wiped the grin right off Harry's face and he stopped mid-laugh, ending in a slightly choked sound effect often heard in cartoons. In the end he had to sit on his chair to steady his weak knees, and he looked over at Catalina who seemed to be enjoying every moment of it.

"So…they're a couple now?" he asked, sounding mortified at the very idea.

"Nope," said Catalina with the air of someone about to impart another piece of news, "they got so embarrassed they haven't said anything about it since. They don't know how to act!"

"I thought they were acting weird when they came over here," Harry said thoughtfully, "they were flirting like mad the whole time…it was quite sickening really."

"Well, now you know why," she said, finishing off her sandwich with only the crusts on the plate left to show of her meal.

"Why didn't they tell me?" asked Harry looking scandalised now, "I'm their best friend!"

"Would you tell them if you kissed…someone?" she asked him with a faint blush colouring her cheeks.

"Well…_no_," said Harry, also flushing slightly, "But you know, I _might_, if I had to…"

"Well there you go," she said in a final tone, "we'll just have to wait and see what happens I suppose."

"Yeah," said Harry thoughtfully, not fully comprehending the news at all, "and she _told _you all of this?"

Catalina nodded, "I think she was bursting to tell someone, she just blurted it out right in the middle of a completely unrelated topic."

Harry felt slightly annoyed that Hermione hadn't told him, but then again Catalina was right. If he kissed…someone, he wouldn't be rushing to tell either Ron or Hermione. Catalina looked at the door expectantly just as Remus walked in, reading a piece of parchment, completely unaware. He gave them a bright smile, then noticed Harry's dazed look.

"What's up with you?" he asked with a frown.

"I just had a piece of news I wasn't expecting," said Harry with a slight grin.

"Good I hope?" he asked worriedly.

"Er…it's hard to say really," he said, before he couldn't take it anymore, "Ron kissed Hermione!"

Remus gave a laugh, "took them long enough didn't it?"

Harry and Catalina both laughed out loud to this and amused themselves at their friends expense for a short while before Remus looked out of the window.

"It lovely outside, why don't you two go and get some sunshine, walk into the village or something," he said with a nod to the great outdoors.

"Alright mum," said Harry, "don't try and get rid of us or anything."

"I'm just saying," said Remus in a conciliatory tone, "that maybe you ought to get some fresh air rather than sitting around moping inside all the time?"

"I don't mope," said Harry sulkily. 

"Alright, _don't _go out then, sit inside all day for I care," he said with a final look before sweeping out of the room again. 

"Fancy going and getting an ice cream?" asked Harry when he was sure Remus was out of earshot, "there's a small village down the road we could walk to?"

"Are we allowed?" she asked nervously.

"Yeah, we're alright here, no-one knows about this place, we've got more charms on this house than Gringotts. No one knows we're here," explained Harry, sensing her fear.

"I've never been allowed to just, you know, walk away from the house before," she said, the light of adventure being rekindled in her unfamiliar eyes. 

Harry gave a shrug, "Neither have I until now, what do you say?"

"Maybe later on?" she asked reluctantly, "anyway…I haven't had the grand tour yet."

"Alright," laughed Harry, "follow me."

He led her into the hall and up the crowded stairs, Remus's house was only a two-up two-down model and all to soon he came to his room. He cursed himself for not tidying up as he pushed the door open, creating a small pile of clothes on the floor. He wasn't usually a messy person, but it was the God-awful hours he was getting up thanks to his lessons, he never bothered with lights and as such stumbled around until he found something that vaguely felt like clothes.

"Sorry it's a bit of a mess," he said in a rather embarrassed voice, "I didn't have chance to clean up."

Catalina cast her eye across the tiny room, and the furniture piled up on the one side, while Harry tried to surreptitiously kick a pile of dirty washing under his bed. After a while he saw her studying the photographs on the wall again, walking up to them and looking at them, head cocked on one side thoughtfully.

"This is your mom."

It wasn't a question rather a statement, and Harry walked over to look at the picture with her. She was sitting in a big rocking chair, with Remus and Sirius on either side of her. They were both looking at her belly, which was huge, and taking it in turns to whisper things to the bump. Technically it was a photo of Harry and his mom. 

Harry looked at the photo sadly, she was only just 20 at the time it was taken he guessed, but she looked very happy, they all did. 

"You've got her eyes."

Harry merely nodded, "a lot of people say that."

And they said it for a reason, because it was absolutely true. They were exactly the same shade of green, one of the only things he had inherited from her, apart from his defiant streak apparently.

"And this is your godfather?" she asked, resting a long-nailed finger on the young Sirius who was cooing in mute to the bump. 

"Yeah, that's him," said Harry with a small smile now, "he's an idiot 99 per cent of the time."

She smiled, and looked at the photo again for a few moments, before turning to the next one. Harry liked this one, he would sit and watch it for a while, and tell himself that his father was waving at him, and not at the cameraman. 

"He flew as well?" was all she asked, looking at the broom held in one hand of the figure in the photo.

"Yeah, I'm told he was a good player."

She nodded and flicked her gaze across to the next one.

"They look very happy."

Harry shrugged, he supposed they did. She turned away and looked across the walls, and the masses of photo's that seemed to be Remus's idea of wallpapering. 

"Are they all yours?" she asked curiously.

"No, none of them," he said, "I've got an album Hagrid gave me in my first year."

"Can I see it?" she asked hopefully.

"Sure," he said, reaching into his trunk and pulling out the leather bound book.

They sat down on the bed and Harry handed her the book. She ran a finger across the spotless cover and Harry sat back, crossing his legs to get more comfy. She looked through all of the pictures carefully, and Harry watched her more than he did the book, noticing how she seemed to be trying to imprint every single detail to memory. She kept grinning, and smiling sadly at certain photo's, pointing things out and laughing. Harry couldn't understand her fascination at all.

"You were a very cute baby," she laughed, showing him one photo of his dad clutching a tiny baby with a large wizard's hat perched on top of its head, nearly obscuring it's whole body.

"Yeah, whatever happened eh?" he said solemnly.

Catalina gave him a grin, and raised her eyebrows sceptically, "yeah what did?"

"Hey!" said Harry in mock-anger, "you're not supposed to agree."

She gave him another sly grin and turned the page before laughing outright.

"Ohmigod, is that Ron?" she asked, squinting at the photo.

Harry shuffled over to see a picture of the trio in their first year, all looking (now he thought about it) incredibly young. 

"Yeah, that's us three in Hagrid's hut," he said, smiling at the memory, "we've changed a bit huh?"

"I'll say," she laughed, "you're so short!"

"Hey," protested Harry, "I _was _standing next to Ron, and he's always been taller than me."

"Hermione's only a few centimetre's below you on this one!" she giggled.

"Well," said Harry haughtily, "it must be the camera angle, and anyway, I've caught up now haven't I?"

"Yeah," she conceded, continuing to flip through the old photographs, whose occupants began to get a little older, and a little taller.

Finally she came across one of her, and she looked up in surprise at him. It was the Yule Ball photo, which was now nearly a year old and Harry couldn't believe how much they'd changed in such a short space of time. 

"Oh, it's the Yule Ball," she said happily, scrutinising the photo couple, "I really enjoyed that night."

"Yeah," admitted Harry, remembering the music and the dancing, "it took me ages to get up the courage to ask you!"

"I don't know why," she laughed, "do you know I turned down about three guys because I was waiting for you to ask me?"

"No," said Harry, looking shocked and embarrassed all at once, "why did you do that?"

"Well," she shrugged, blushing furiously now, "I guess I must have really wanted to go with you."

Harry didn't know what to say to that, so he said nothing at all. He was quite chuffed though in a small way, than God she _had _turned down all those guys otherwise he wouldn't had have half as good as time.

She continued to flip through the pictures in silence, and soon she came to the end, noticing that about half the pages were still unfilled. Harry got up and rooted around in his trunk until he found some muggle money before pulling on some boots he found under the bed.

"You ready for a walk?" he asked her self-consciously.

"Er…" she said, casting around for an excuse before she deflated slightly, "ok then."

"Don't worry," he told her, as he laced up his shoes, "it's safe here ok?"

"I'm not worried," she said in a fake-cheerful.

"Your forgetting that doesn't work on me," he laughed as he could feel her worry niggling away at him.

She gave a shrug, and soon they were ready to go. Harry popped his head into the living to room and said goodbye to Remus before walking out the front gate. It was a hot day and Harry was already sweltering in his tee-shirt by the time they got to the end of the long drive. He couldn't imagine how hot Catalina was in her long-sleeved shirt, but he didn't say anything, she had a protective hand resting on her one arm. 

"So what do you thinks going to happen with Ron and Hermione?" she asked him a little while later.

"I really don't know," laughed Harry, "it's hard getting used to any of them being anything except a 'nearly' couple."

"Yeah, it's a bit strange isn't it," she said, "everyone seems to be pairing up these days…"

"Who else is?" asked Harry.

"The twins and the Chasers from the team," she said, before noticing his look of confusion, "Hermione told me. And then there's Dean and Lavender, Ron and Hermione obviously, even Ron's sister."

"What Ginny?" asked Harry in surprise, thrown slightly off track by that piece of news.

"Yeah," said Catalina with a laugh, "does he have another one?"

"Well no," he admitted, "who's she with then?"

"I don't know, some Ravenclaw who lives a few miles away from her or something," said Catalina offhandedly, "Hermione was very excited about it all."

"Yeah, they're good friends," said Harry thoughtfully.

"It looks like we'll be the only single Gryffindor's left this year," she said in a soft voice.

"Yeah," said Harry weakly, blushing to the roots of his hair.

There was a lingering silence, while Harry tried to figure out what she just meant. Maybe she had wanted him to ask her something? Or maybe she was just commenting on the fact. Anyway, Harry doubted she really wanted to drop a hint, based on the fact she never got more than a metre close to him, and practically drop-kicked him every time he touched her.

Anyway, he thought moodily, the ball was in her court. She knew perfectly well how he felt, he had _told _her last year. There was too much happening in their lives at the moment to do anything anyway he told himself half-heartedly. Soon they entered the village and Harry tried to quieten the contradictory voices in his head. The kids usually playing football were gone, school for muggles had started a few days before and Harry led the way to the post office.

"I've never been in a muggle English village before," said Catalina curiously, looking at the unfamiliar sites hungrily.

"Well," said Harry flexing his fingers theatrically, "let me give you the tour."

So he showed her around the small village, taking her to the small Church (St Paul's), the primary school (St Paul's primary school amazingly), he showed her the fish and chips shop, the florist, the butcher, the petrol station, before finally going to the post office.

"Ok, pick a flavour," he said motioning to the small freezer in the corner.

She looked interestedly at the colourful pictures, "what are they like?"

"Well, do you want an ice cream or an ice lolly?"

"What's the difference?" she asked in confusion, she'd obviously never one before.

"Well a lolly is like juicy, they taste of fruits and everything," he explained pointing to one picture, "and ice cream are, well, creamy. They mostly chocolate and fudge and stuff like that."

She licked her lips and studied the pictures for a while before finally deciding the packaging would sell it for her.

"A calypso please," she said with a triumphant look.

"What flavour?" asked Harry, sliding the door open.

"It comes in different flavours?" she asked interestedly, "ok what have they got?"

"Er, strawberry, passion fruit, lemon, lime…"

"The second one," she said, watching him pull it out of the icy depths, "ok so what are you having?"

"I think I'll have a strawberry one," he said before pulling out the money from his pocket, "lets go pay."

Five minutes later Harry and Catalina were sat on the swings, licking their ice-lolly's happily. Catalina was studying the muggle money in Harry's hand curiously, just as Ron had done years ago

The sat on the swings for a while, had a race to see who could get the highest, sat on the seesaws and tried to throw each other off, the usual mature things that people do when they're faced with a park, they instantly have to revert to five years old. Soon however, they had to go back, or else face the wrath of Sirius. They didn't mind him going out, but they would if he didn't turn up when he said he would. 

When they got back to the house, Harry opened the door to instant uproar. There was smoke clogging the hallway, and he could hear Remus and Sirius shouting loudly to each other, accompanied by loud thumping noises. Panic squeezed Harry's chest – were they were being attacked? He rushed into the kitchen, Catalina in tow.

When they opened the door they were greeted by even more choking black smoke, just in time to see Remus tipping a bowl of water over the pan on the stove, which was actually on fire.

"DON'T!" shouted Catalina, but too late.

The tiny flames seemed to be fed by the water and began to lick the ceiling and Sirius and Remus were still shouting at each other and there was general confusion for a seconds for a for seconds until the back doors and windows all burst open, and the smoke was fanned out, well, as if by magic. Harry looked through the smoke to see Catalina directing lines of white light across the room. 

Remus and Sirius were still shouting, fanning the flames which were licking up to the low ceiling by this time. He ran over to the sink, wetting the tea towel and throwing it on top of the flames. In a few seconds Catalina had a small blue bubble around the smouldering pan and quiet descended on the kitchen.

"SEE!" roared Sirius suddenly, pointing at Remus accusingly, "This is _precisely _why we do not cook in this house!"

Harry was coughing in the smoke, trying to wave it away from his face, not noticing as Catalina picked up the 'bubble' and dropped it in the sink. Harry surveyed the damage, the whole kitchen was smoke-blackened and there was the faint _plink _of cooling metal. 

"Hey, at least I tried to do something!" countered Remus's waving away the smoke futilely, "unlike _you _who just stood there shouting, _extremely_ helpful!"

"And who was it that made the flames ten times as big?" asked Sirius loudly, "extremely helpful!"

"You don't put water on burning oil," coughed Harry weakly, "_everybody_ knows that!"

"Well why not?" asked Remus defensively, "It was a fire…water puts out fire!"

"Not oil fires," he said, joining Catalina at the sink.

He picked up mangled remains of the saucepan, and looked at the charred remains on the bottom of it.

"What was it supposed to be?" he asked curiously.

"Soup," said Remus even more defensively.

"I'm not even going to ask how you get an oil fire from making soup…" said Harry, dropping it into the bin.

"Good job you guys knew what to do, eh?" he laughed, ignoring Harry's last comment. 

Harry rolled his eyes and suddenly realised that Catalina and Sirius were in the same room…together. How's that for a first meeting. She was standing slightly behind Harry, looking curiously at Sirius, who had seemed to suddenly realise as well.

"Catalina I presume?" he asked, addressing Harry's shoulder.

She nodded mutely, and Harry could tell she was feeling extremely nervous, as was he now.

She didn't say anything, and Harry willed her silently to say something, even if it was in another language. Sirius looked across to Harry who grimaced slightly at the tension that was crackling in the air. He hoped that Sirius remembered his promise.

Come on Catalina, Harry thought desperately, say something, you were doing so well today…

"It's nice to meet you," she said suddenly in a very quiet voice.

Harry gave an audible sigh of relief, which he instantly regretted, but nobody seemed to notice. 

"You too, at long last," he said, with a look in Harry's direction who was staring at him pointedly, making him remember their agreement…be nice, "Are you feeling better?"

"Much, thank you," she said awkwardly, still standing protectively behind Harry.

He could tell if it wasn't for him practically penning her into the corner of the kitchen she would have bolted away before now. Even with the dimmer emotion connection they had he could tell she was terrified. It wasn't exactly a perfect meeting, it was all extremely polite and cordial, but Harry had been expecting much worse. After knowing her for over a year, Sirius had finally met her, and after all the arguments and tears it was quiet a non-event. 

"Well," said Remus, smudging the soot further into his face, "how about we get cleaned up and go and get some Chinese?"

Harry laughed, if he didn't know better he'd say they'd planned all that just to prove they _couldn't _cook, just so that they could have take-away for dinner again. 

"Come on," he said to Catalina leading her back upstairs.

Once they were back in his bedroom he turned to her curiously.

"So…you ok?" he asked her worriedly.

"Yeah…" she said in a shaky voice, "sorry, I thought…I was just a little, you know, nervous…meeting the family and all."

"Don't worry ok? I told him I'd hex him seven ways till Sunday if he put a toe out of line," he said, trying to lighten up the atmosphere, "he's really not that bad…"

"Yeah, I know," she said with a shrug, "they obviously can't cook though…"

"You're right there," said Harry rooting around in his trunk, "we've had take-away _every _night since I got here…I don't know how they afford it."

She nodded and laughed at him, "you've got soot _all _over you."

"I could say the same about you," he said with a nod at her grimy face. "You're filthy."

"I couldn't believe it when I saw him tipping that water on it," said Catalina, sitting on the bed carefully.

"I know, definitely not muggle born," laughed Harry pulling out a jumper, "here you go, you can get changed out of your dirty stuff."

She took the jumper and looked at him in blank incomprehension. 

"Do you mind?" she asked cordially.

"Oh, right," said Harry, ducking his head in embarrassment, "Bathrooms far door on the left."

She disappeared out of the room, and Harry changed into another shirt, throwing his dirty one on the floor, before self-consciously picking it up and folding it. He shook his head and laughed at their attempt to make 'soup'. He supposed Remus was refrying chicken they'd had chicken 

He heard the roar of the motorbike, and looked out his window to see Sirius making his exit in search of food. He pulled off his glasses and rubbed his face, grimacing at the dirt on it. He stood up and made for the door, opening it just as Catalina reached for the door handle. She gave a start and stared at him, as he did her. He didn't know why, he just suddenly couldn't seem to move. After a long, uncomfortable silence she blinked a few times.

"Your er…" she began weakly, still staring at him oddly, "tops…too big."

"Right," he said stupidly, "ok."

It would have been an odd sight, if anyone had been there to behold it, thankfully though there was not. Harry noticed she still had a slight smudge of soot on her face.

"You've still got a bit of-" he began, raising a hand (unwisely) to her cheek.

She flinched as if he was about to hit her and took a shaky step back. It seemed to break them both out of the spell and Harry looked anywhere than at her. She walked backwards until she hit the banister rail and managed to choke out, "I'll just go…wash my face, again," before dashing to the toilet.

Harry held his hands in his head before traipsing into the bedroom. He slouched onto the bed, and lay with his back against the wall for some time, listing to her. She was upset. He was annoyed. He had cocked everything up…again. He banged his head against the wall angrily, stupid, stupid Harry.

After what seemed like an eternity he heard her slide back the bolt on the door and walk to the room carefully. She walked in and hovered near the doorway. He carried on staring ahead for a few seconds, before looking over. 

"You ok?" was all he said, he couldn't think of anything else_ to_ say.

She smiled bravely, "yeah of course…"

He nodded heavily, and looked ahead again for a few seconds before remembering something, "I've got something for you."

"What?" she asked nervously, and Harry had to crack a grin.

"It's a present," he said laughing, "from Lu Tze."

"Oh," she said in surprise, before laughing along with him.

The tension disappeared and he climbed off the bed, "it's downstairs, he gave it me today."

A few minutes later they were sitting in the living room, as Harry rummaged around in the pockets of his coat. They could hear Remus shifting furniture and muttering various charms in the next room, and Harry finally located the paper package.

She took it from his hands carefully, and looked at it for a while, before slowly peeling away the paper. Harry looked at the bundle that fell into her hands curiously, it seemed to be something wrapped in a lot of cloth. She unravelled it and a small rag doll fell into her hands, she gave a gasp as she looked at it.

"Oh my…" she said, looking at it in surprise, "it's mine…my Shebulba…"

"Yours?" asked Harry as she picked it up.

It was a small doll, dressed in scraps of cloth basically, with a blue headscarf and black hair and eyes. It looked a little like her strangely and she stroked it lovingly.

"Where I came from, you made these and they acted as your, I don't know how to explain it, guardian angel," she explained with misty eyes, "everybody had one when you were young, and they looked after you as long as you had them…"

"And this one was yours?" asked Harry, taking in the well worn look and stuffing that was coming out at the seams.

"Yeah, her name was Shebulba, I lost her when I was young, and then we moved away…I always thought I'd never see her again."

Harry watched her bemusedly as she played with it for a few more seconds, trying to imagine a toddler Catalina with her toy. She handed it to him and picked up the cloth the present had been wrapped in. As he looked closer he could see it was exactly the same material as the doll's headscarf, blue with intricately stitched gold thread. 

She looked at it happily, and expertly wrapped it around her head until all her hair was covered, and turned to him with a grin.

"What do you think?" she asked with a glint in her eye.

"Nice," said Harry admirably, thinking suddenly how much he sounded like Ron when he complimented Hermione on her hair braids.

"Some countries where I lived, the women weren't allowed to show they're head or hair," she explained, shifting around him to face him, "What do you think? Oriental queen or Romanian peasant?"

"Hmm," said Harry, regarding her critically, "definitely the latter."

"Yeah right!" she scoffed with a laugh.

They were laughing along quite happily when the door suddenly banged shut and they heard Sirius was shuffling down the corridor. He poked his head into see Harry and Catalina in hysterics on the couch.

"Dinners up," he said with a real grin.

Catalina gave a blush and desperately fought to unwrap her headscarf, ending up with a head of hair that looked like a haystack , which she flattened down while giggling. They walked into the nearly cleaned and repaired kitchen to find a gorgeous spread of take-away on the table, knife and forks set, with the free disposable chopsticks lying forgotten on the side.

Catalina seemed to be in a lot better mood and they all sat down to the table quite normally. They guys picked up the forks and dived in, and Catalina followed suit a few seconds later, reaching for the chopsticks. The three of them watched her in barely concealed amazement as they watched her artfully wielding them, and she was halfway through her noodles when she realised they were still watching her. 

"What?" she asked worriedly, "do we have to say grace or something? Sorry I didn't know…"

"No," said Remus slightly distractedly as he stared at the chopsticks, "we were just watching you use those things…"

"Oh," she said with a grin, looking across to Harry.

"Show me how," he asked her excitedly.

Ten minutes and three vanishing chicken balls later, Catalina had figured out that the entire occupants of the house didn't have a clue how to use them at all, and probably never would. They were all laughing along quite happily, as she tried futilely tried to get Harry to put his fingers right.

It certainly broke the ice.

"I think I've got it," said Harry cautiously, as he picked up the last chicken ball.

The table held it breath…but to no avail. Off it flew, magically attracted to the floor in some way.

"Damn," he cursed, looking under the table.

"Don't worry," said Remus placidly, "the dog'll eat it."

*

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AN/ So, Sirius, Catalina and Remus FINALLY met. I think she likes Remus more, but wouldn't you? Lol. I tried to inject a little bit or normalcy into this chapter, all that dark stuff is depressing me!

Riser155 - As to your guesses to the mystery stalker, ONE of your guesses was correct, only I'm keeping quiet about WHICH one it is! Thanks (again) for all your reviews on various stories begging me to update!

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Remus Lupin - Thanks for the review. For the longest possible time I called Hermione 'Her-my-own'! I will get in touch with your site asap, I've just got a little thing called exams atm which are getting me down! Not long now though (well actually a month, but…)

**Rhysel Ash** - We could quibble all night over the _exact _shade of the review button. But I'll meet you half way and say forget-me-not blue. How that's? Thanks for your review

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gillian - _That _dreaded exam is now over, only 7 more to go! Yay! Thanks for your review, and I know what you mean. Harry Potter is way more interesting and important than college anywho!

**Esperanza** - Not exactly a R/H scene, but at least its news about them right? Next chapter will be including them, but then its back to Hogwarts again! And the plot (I swear there is one) will actually begin!

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Preciousgirl - Thanks for your review! Random is my actual middle name (after Ann) as you can see from the above. We like to have a little bit of weirdness right? Don't we she says worriedly

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So anyway. I would just like to say congrats to Arsenal for winning the FA cup, and good luck to my team the Wolves in their final play-off place next Monday! We all know you can do it!

Also, Paffy's handy author hint for the day. If you're stuck for names for characters, simply go into google or any other search engine and type in the words "Random Name Generator". It's so simple, and you can laugh all day at the names!


	13. Grimbit's

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~*~*~ Chapter Twelve ~*~*~

Grimbit's

It was approaching midnight and Catalina was still at The Gatehouse. Sirius and Remus had watched a few soaps on the tv, before bidding goodnight a few minutes ago. They were watching some appallingly bad horror movie about vampires or some such thing open-mouthed and slack jawed. Harry had been awake since 3.45am and his eyes kept drooping shut before he jerked awake. 

Catalina was enjoying the movie, either that or she _really _didn't want to go home Harry thought dryly.

*

Catalina _had_ been enthralled with the moving pictures on the screen. It was like a photo, except it lasted for longer, and they talked and acted. At least _tried _to act bless them.

The movie ended a few moments ago, in a very gory way that made Catalina feel slightly sick, all that blood. She gave a shudder, looked down at her hands, shuddering at a memory. Remembering seeing the blood on them, remembered stabbing that poor woman. She could still smell the iron tang of blood, feel the wetness on her hands, watching the light fade from her eyes as she slumped to the floor. And all the time she had been so calm, everything was so peaceful inside her head, so beautiful, waking up had been the worst experience of her life. When she finally realised what she'd done…

She tried to shake the images from her brain. 

With another violent shudder she turned to Harry, hoping he hadn't noticed. A smile slowly spread across her features as such sat up and looked at him closely. He was asleep! He was slouched right down into the folds of the fabric, with his glasses slightly askew on his nose.

She smiled fondly and studied him for a few minutes in a way she wouldn't have dared do if he was awake. His messy black hair seemed to think gravity was something that applied to everything else, and she noticed the small frown playing across his lips. 

She hadn't forgot what he'd told her. Not that long ago, although it sometimes felt like it. She remembered every detail of it perfectly, she was upset, up on the battlements of the astronomy tower when he came a found her…

"Ever since I met you, you've been all I've thought about…Me and you belong together…I love you Catalina." 

She sighed deeply. Poor Harry. Placing all his trust into her when she didn't deserve it. She'd betrayed him in so many ways ever since she'd met him and he'd always forgiven her. She didn't know what she'd done to deserve it. 

He understandably found it hard to trust people, and then she'd come along…fallen for him before she'd realised it. And he'd saved her so many times. Without him, she'd still be in Azkaban, she probably wouldn't have even made it that far. He saved her life. 

And she repaid him back like this. Loving him in more ways than she thought he'd ever know, but never been able to doing anything about it. Not now.

Poor Harry she thought again sadly. She loved him so much it hurt. She wanted to stay here forever, never going back to Ireland, and the family that didn't want or know her, back to the ever-watchful eyes of him. Biding his time until he made his move. She wanted to stay safe with Harry forever.

She raised a tentative hand to his messy black hair, with the simple aim in brushing his fringe away, just so she could see his scar. See the reason everyone thought he was so special. However, she suddenly realised _what_ she was going to do, and paused slightly as she looked at him again. She had been so scared of him since the attack, scared of his reaction, scared of his feeling for her, and hers for him. Everything had changed now from her relatively carefree earlier years. 

She dropped her shaking hand and leaned her head against the couch and watched him silently. She could almost see the slightly red scar on his forehead from where she lay, and every time she saw it, it reminded her of so many things. A mirror-image of the one on their hands, it was another of their common bonds. 

She sat with her head on the side of the couch, watching him sleep for some time, relishing the sense of peace she felt right at that moment, for the first time she could remember. It wasn't just because she knew she couldn't be reached here, or that he couldn't find her, but that she knew if anything did happen, he would do his best to protect her, or die trying. 

She felt the minutes crawl by, turning into hours and she pondered her future. Once Hogwarts was done, she was going to get away, and maybe, juts maybe, she wasn't going to be alone. 

*

"Wake up…Harry, wake up."

Harry frowned even deeper in his sleep, and shifted slightly. He was having a shapeless dream whose only feature was the sound. It was the sound of running feet, of shouts and bangs and confusion. He vaguely realised that someone was talking to him and prised open his leaden lids.

"What?" he mumbled, groggily, looking blearily about, "what's this?"

He saw Catalina sitting along to sofa, staring at him.

"You fell asleep," she said with a strangely sad smile, "you missed the end of the film."

"What happened?" he asked, sitting up and stretching to see some bizarre tv advert on involving a talking squirrel.

"The vampire got killed," she said with a roll of her eyes, "angry mob, pitchforks, the works."

"Ah," he said, squinting across in the gloom to her, "what time is it?"

"One."

"In the morning?" he asked looking scandalised, "you better get back, they'll be worrying about you!"

She gave a slight shudder and a fearful look at the fireplace, "not yet."

"Why not?" he asked slightly suspiciously, sensing her unwillingness to return.

"Just don't want to yet," she said stubbornly, "maybe I'd rather stay here…"

Harry looked at her in surprise, before shrugging and rubbing his eyes tiresomely. She had Shebulba, her rag doll, in her hand, making her dance on her lap quite childishly. He watched her smiling, it almost felt normal, for a very small moment, everything was quite normal and Harry enjoyed it. 

"We used to have a song about them," laughed Catalina, as if she'd suddenly remembered something.

"What?" Harry asked, still tired and confused.

"About the dolls, we used to sing about them, and make up dances for them," she said in embarrassment.

"And how old where you then?" asked Harry seriously, "fourteen?"

"No!" she said in mock-anger, "I must have been about four? Maybe five, I'm not sure…"

"Go on then," he said in amusement, "show me."

"I can't really remember it now!" she said, but Harry could tell she was lying.

"Aw, go on!" he wheedled.

"Alright, but don't you laugh," she said sternly.

"I wouldn't dream of it," he said solemnly. 

"Ok…ahem," she said, flexing her fingers, before dancing the doll across her lap.

__

Funziona in un cerchio,

lei funziona giù la linea,

nessuno può trovarla mai,

angelo piccolo dolce di mine.

Harry stared at her open mouthed as she trotted the little doll around, shooting him a grin. She looked so childish and immature! He suddenly burst out laughing and he held onto his stomach desperately as she glared at him, hands on her hips.

"You said you wouldn't laugh at me!"

"I'm not laughing at _you_," said Harry, wiping away a tear_, _"I'm laughing _with _you!"

"_I'm _not laughing!"

"Aw come on Catalina," he laughed, breathing deeply between his laughs, "it was just too funny! You can't let me _not _laugh at something like that!"

She tutted loudly and gave him the cold shoulder, while Harry sniggered at her mock anger, "I'm not speaking to you anymore."

"Aw, what a shame," said Harry cheerfully, stretching loudly, "do you want a drink, nod once for yes and twice for no."

She nodded once then smirked at him, "ok, I'm bored now, all that not speaking has left me thirsty."

She followed him into the kitchen, and sat on the tabletop and Harry flipped on the kettle. He turned around and leaned against the counter facing her casually. She took in the black rings now circling under his eyes and the long yawn he tried to stifle with a tired hand.

"Tired?" she asked bemusedly. 

"Uh-huh," he said sliding down to the floor, "I may just go to sleep right here. Kick me awake if I do ok?"

She rolled her eyes and the kettle clicked off. He stood up wearily and Catalina summoned the biscuit tin off the side to her. Harry watched her rifling through them, looking more awake than he had all evening. He trotted over to the counter where she was sitting and lifted himself onto it, sitting next to her.

"I forgot, I wanted to show you something," he said, as she raised a curious eyebrow.

Concentrating as best he could after being awake for nearly 24 hours, he beckoned to the cupboard and the door banged open. She gave a gasp and clapped her hands appreciatively.

"Well done!" she said in surprise, "you've learned a lot!"

"Oh, you ain't seen nothing yet," laughed Harry.

With a little more concentration, he managed to levitate two cups out of the cupboard and drop them rather clumsily on the side. Catalina watched open mouthed as he proceeded to tips it spoonfuls of hot chocolate powder (_most _of it went in), poured the kettle of water in (not a lot of that went in).

Finally shakily summoning the cups over to where they were sitting. He handed hers over with a smug look.

"Go on…" he said triumphantly, "go on, admit that it was…?"

"_Alright,_ I suppose," she said nonchalantly, "_I _could do better!"

"You've been doing it for how many years? I've been learning a month!" said Harry with a superior smile.

"Fine, _fine_," she admitted wearily, "you win…that was…quite good."

"That sounded like it caused you a lot of pain to admit," laughed Harry, taking a sip of his drink.

"It did," she said dryly, "believe me."

They laughed happily and Harry finally gave a sigh and turned to her, looking uncharacteristically serious. 

"I'm glad you're better now Catalina."

She took in his faintly blushing cheeks and sincere expression, and sighed heavily, "so am I Harry."

"I really worried that you wouldn't, you know, come back," he said, before adding hastily, "to Hogwarts I mean."

She nodded, not really knowing what to say to that, so chose instead, to say nothing.

"And I know we…fought last year. About secrets?" he said warily, "so I thought I ought to tell you…I'm meeting the Order tomorrow."

"Oh," she said blankly, before shaking her head slightly, "you don't need to tell me anymore. I was being, stupid last year…"

"You had a right to know," he shrugged looking sheepish, "when it involved you."

"Well, that's all in the past," she said earnestly. "No more fighting, it's stupid, and it's a waste of time."

"Deal," he said looking relieved, "no more fighting." 

"What will you be doing with the Order?"

"I don't know," said Harry heavily, and she could tell he was really quite worried, "they're going to send Remus and Sirius away, I know that for sure. Qualified Auror's will be in big demand. But as to me…I don't know."

"Well," she said worriedly, "what _could _they make you do?"

"I really don't have any clue. But I'll write and tell you when I do know."

"You don't need to," said Catalina hastily.

"No, I'd like too," he said earnestly.

"Oh," she said, blushing slightly, "ok then."

Harry drained the rest of his cup and tried to levitate it over to the sink, it basically worked. 

"I think you need to learn a steadying charm for that," she nodded to his handiwork (a smashed cup on the draining board).

"How's that work?"

So she proceeded to tell him, and they practised for a while on various implements, with Catalina showing Harry how to do it perfectly, while he stumbled along after. A while later the grandfather clock in the hall (actually it was sort of lying on the stairs, but that wasn't the point) chimed three and Harry looked at her in a mixture of surprise and worry.

"It's gone three! Your family will be furious!" he said, standing up hastily.

"Don't worry," she said dismissively, "I told them I'd be back late, and they go to sleep at like 6 in the evening, they won't have noticed I'm not there."

"Even so! I'm leaving for Lu Tze's in an hour!"

"Can I come with?" she asked excitedly.

"What?" spluttered Harry, "you're family will be worried Catalina!"

"Please Harry?" she begged desperately, "I won't be any trouble, and I really want to see him!"

Harry looked at her exasperatedly before giving in, "fine, _fine_. But if you get into trouble, it has nothing to do with me."

She gave a huge grin, she _really _didn't want to go home Harry decided. But he couldn't care too much, he was now working on about 10 minutes stolen kip in over 24 hours and was feeling like an extra in night of the living dead (he'd watched that two nights ago, it was very amusing). He decided desperate times called for desperate measures and poured himself a strong cup of black coffee, with three spoon full of granules in. 

He'd be twitching in no time.

*

Lu Tze had been ecstatic that Catalina had come along, and the two of them were showing Harry tricks and useful spells that were far too advanced for him. He was just watching them attempting to beat each other in a duel when the grate roared to life. 

Everyone stopped moving and looked at it, before noticeably relaxing when they saw Dumbledore walk through. However the tension soon returned to the scene when they saw the look on his face, it was grim and serious.

"What's wrong?" asked Harry immediately, scrabbling to his feet, "what's happened?"

"Nothing has happened Harry," he said without looking at him, "nothing that has not been solved now."

He looked at Catalina in confusion who he was curious to see was looking extremely guilty as the headmaster pinned her down with a searching look.

"You're family contacted me a few hours ago," he said steadily, watching Catalina coolly, "followed by your Medic Officer from St. Mungo's…it seems they were worried when they discovered you missing yesterday morning."

Missing? Thought Harry worriedly, she wasn't missing, she'd been with him all day.

"I was visiting Harry," she said in a frightened voice, staring at her shoes.

"Yes, I know that now, but you could have told your grandparents. They only found that out when they read a letter Harry had sent you _informing _them of your whereabouts…"

"I'm sure I told them," she mumbled. 

"They've been waiting for you to return since 8 'o'clock last night," he said pointedly, "you can't do this to them Catalina, they're old people and are doing their best to help you."

"I know that," she whispered shamefully.

"The papers have been have a field day," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose wearily, "It doesn't do well to draw attention to yourself."

"I understand that."

Harry was shocked, he had no idea that Catalina hadn't told anyone where she was going. He wondered why they hadn't just flooed to his house and rescued her sooner.

"Well, no lasting damage has been done," said Dumbledore finally, "I shall take you home now. No doubt Harry will see you when you return to school."

"Yeah, ok," she sighed, following him towards the grate, she gave Harry a look, before stepping through the flames first.

"Sorry to bother you Lu Tze," said Dumbledore with a small smile.

"It is no trouble Old Man Albus," said the monk graciously, "if I had known Catalina was here without consent, I would, of course, have sent her back."

"Of course," said Dumbledore with a nod of the head, "I better go and convince her Medic Officer that she didn't attempt to run away…"

And without another word, he followed Catalina through the fire. Harry and Lu Tze watched the empty grate for a few seconds in disbelief. 

"I wonder why Catalina chose to act in such a way," questioned Lu Tze eventually, turning to Harry curiously.

"I thought she just wanted to stay with me, I mean us, because she was enjoying herself…" said Harry slowly.

"That may be so," said Lu Tze with a frown at the fireplace, well, it does not do to dwell on such things…now, this is a simple charm…"

*

Harry had forgotten how big the chamber where the Order met was. It was vast, even with the large group of people that were now milling around inside it. Both of his trips had been spent in such deep concentration he'd never looked around it until now. 

There was a large oak beamed ceiling, supported by many gothic carved columns, and one long table with a hundred seats around it, that was laid with nothing but parchments and quills. As soon as he, Remus and Sirius had arrived (dressed in the Order's robes) they had walked over and met the Weasley's. Ron had been right about his dad, he _was_ getting better. He knew who everyone was now, and only had momentary lapses in concentration now, yet he had a sad expression on his face now. All the Weasley's did.

It seemed they had all accepted the worst. That Percy was finally gone.

They were shadows of their former selves, not a bright, bubbly, happy and cheerful selves they used to be, rather more conscientious, worn and tired. However, the all rallied magnificently against their troubles, put on a brave face and Mrs Weasley welcomed him over, hugging Harry tightly. 

"Alright guys?" said Harry, walking over to his two best friends.

"Yeah, of course," said Ron with a wry grin, "you're late."

"Yeah, I know," sighed Harry, rolling his eyes, "Remus's fault…last minute floo difficulties."

"How's everything going in Chateaux Princetown?" asked Hermione with a small grin.

"Fine, fine," laughed Harry, "been too busy to rest! What's with the French?"

"She's been practising," said Ron, rolling his eyes as Hermione shoved him slightly, "_all _evening."

"Well why not?" she asked huffily, "at least I'm trying to improve my mind!"

"Hermione, if you try and improve _your _mind anymore, it'll melt!" said Ron exasperatedly.

"Well, I'll have you know-" began Hermione with a glare before Harry cleared his throat.

"Listen guys, as much as I'd love to listen to you bicker away all night, I've got a major headache and I may just drop down from the exhaustion of it all."

"Why? What's a matter?" asked Ron, peering at his face closely, before exclaiming happily, "God, you look like shit!"

"Ron!" scolded Hermione angrily, "Language!"

"What?" he asked indignantly, "he does!"

"Yeah, _thanks _guys. Really, you're a huge help," muttered Harry sighing, the two were seriously wound up tonight. Bickering at the lightest things.

Ron and Hermione shared a glare, that lasted slightly too long for Harry's liking, and he realised with an unhappy lurch that they might be…could they? Yes, they were! They were _flirting _with each other! In his presence as well. It was enough to make a best friend feel sick, especially when he remembered the piece of news Catalina had given him - Ron had kissed Hermione!

"Well, what is wrong with you?" asked Ron finally, grinning slightly.

"Tired…been up for two days straight," he sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"What! Why?" asked Ron looking shocked.

"Well I got up for Lu Tze's lesson at like 3.30, had that, came home and Catalina, you know, came over the afternoon. Then she stayed over until the next lesson, and then I came here."

"Let me guess this straight…" said Ron holding up a hand, "Catalina came to _yours _yesterday, and stayed until 3.30 in the morning? What were you doing?"

"Nothing," growled Harry at Ron's tone, as Hermione hid a smile behind her hand.

They both raised their eyebrows at Harry and he sighed in frustration, "Seriously! We just talked!"

"Like I believe that," grinned Ron looking ecstatic at Harry's discomfort. 

"We did! And, even if I _did_ want to, you know, I don't think it's very likely do you?" he hissed quietly, trying to cut out his two guardians from the conversation, who were standing meters away.

"Why not?" asked Hermione with a cocked eyebrow, "she likes you."

"No! she doesn't," said Harry irritably, "she can't stand anyone touching her! _Anyone_!"

"Well, that's just a side effect," said Hermione flippantly, "it'll wear off. We all know you two are gonna get together!"

Harry glared at the two, feeling grouchy and hard done by through his sleep-deprived brain it was ok for them to laugh at his situation, thinking they're so funny!

"Listen, I'm fed up of this conversation now ok?!" he said irritably, "at least I'm trying to do something towards my situation, unlike you two, who can't even admit what they're feeling to each other, let alone laugh with everyone else about it!"

Ron and Hermione went bright red, and the tension hung in the air. Harry knew he was probably being really mean, but he was tired, and confused and them two carrying on like a couple of…well…school kids, didn't help matters. Ron was about to reply when hush descended upon the room. Dumbledore stood up, and everyone hurried to their tables. Every one gave him their full and undivided attention. 

"Welcome friends. I'm sure you all know why we are here, and as such I will not bore you with the ramblings of an old man," he said as some people tittered, "I wish you to know that we are working in close conjunction with Minister Savoir and his team of Unspeakable's, who have all kindly agreed to join the Order and offer their services."

There was a certain amount of clapping as one section of the table became the focus of talk. 20 men and women were sat in Order's uniforms, with the hard nosed look of the well trained. Harry was instantly put in mind of bodyguards. 

"Tonight, we will be gathering the information together from what we know is happening in known whereabouts of the fleeing Death Eaters, as well as information from those places we are not so sure about. So, many of our spies abroad have returned to give us this news, but firstly, I would like us all to listen to Mr. Augustus Troy, newly instated prisoner warden of Azkaban."

Harry surreptitiously looked over to Sirius, who had the haunted look in his eyes he hadn't seen there for some time, before noticing Hermione was diligently copying down everything the man was saying on her parchment in front of her. Harry wondered if he ought to be doing that.

"Thank you Dumbledore," said a fierce looking man, standing up and shuffling some papers in front of him, "well, as you know, our prisoner capacity stands at 37. Most captured during the House Raid back in May, a few from isolated incidents across the country. Now the Dementors and their effects have disappeared, the morale of the inmates has risen, they are inter-communicating with each other."

"Can we expect any sort of resistance movement or riot from within the compound?" asked a wizard sitting near the head of the table.

"It is unlikely," he said with a piercing glare, "they lack the knowledge, means and opportunity to do anything but dream of escape. Our protections are holding up well, the fortress is as strong as it has _ever _been."

The man seemed to want to leave everybody with the full belief and confidence in his work, with no room for doubt, no matter how small.

"The only person to have every escaped from Azkaban is sitting in this very room, and no-one questions his trustworthiness. As such, Azkaban will never be breached, you have my full assurance of that."

Harry turned to look at Sirius, as had many people in the hall. He merely stared ahead grimly, in a way he remembered vividly as his own technique for dodging attention. His memory travelled back to the time when he was in Professor 'Moody's' class, when he was telling them about the Avada Kedavra curse, he had acted much the same.

Meanwhile, everyone seemed to be nodding happily, they felt safe and assured by Troy's words. However, Harry was more troubled by the inmates that weren't in the compound anymore, the ones who had escaped with the Dominator's on the night of the Riddle Manor Attack.

"Thank you Troy. Now we shall have a number of reports on surrounding countries and the state of play there. Miss Celia, if you will," Dumbledore motioned to a petite woman, who stood up a fixed her eyes on the notes in front of her.

"France," she began, in a decidedly Mediterranean accent, "is causing us some trouble, mostly to the East, close to the borders. There has been an increase in seemingly isolated attacks, unexpected deaths among powerful families, and what may be an unrelated increase in international portkey travels, especially to the eastern European countries."

People were nodding worriedly and Harry thought of Beauxbatons, and how he wished he knew where it was located to know if they were in trouble or not. Hermione, he noticed had gone pale, her holidays had always been towards the east of the country and she had a special affinity for the country - her auntie and uncle had emigrated there some years ago. He gave her a comforting smile, and she replied with a weak grin. 

Meanwhile the woman was joined by a man who was muttering a some sort of charm, until a large map appeared, hovering a few feet above the middle of the table, looking like some sort of hologram. It was Europe, and Harry squinted to get his bearings, he never understood geography at Primary. 

"The red dots represent the locations of missing witches or wizards," she said as they began to erupt across the map like serious acne. 

Harry watched opened mouthed as the new blue dots signified murders, yellow: attacks on property, green: muggle attacks, and black - sightings of the Dark Mark.

Harry didn't need to be a geographer to understand what the map was showing him, he watched as the haze of dots originated in France, spread east across the countries of Germany, Czech Republic, Austria, Holland…with a sudden flurry of dots appearing over one country.

Poland.

Most people had stood up to look at the map, and Harry was no exception, him, Ron and Hermione had leant forward, all eyes drawn to the huge black spot that was the country Harry had never really thought about or noticed before. 

"What's happening there?" whispered Hermione, almost to herself.

It was the thought of everyone in the room at the moment, and Harry head swam as he tried to count the Dark Mark sightings, there were too many to count, most merged into one another. 

"As you can see," said the woman, addressing the horror-struck crowds, "the UK may have been safe these last few months, but the rest of Europe…well you can see for yourself."

"What does this mean?" asked an elderly witch, sitting next to Dumbledore who Harry suddenly recognised as Mrs Figg.

"The Auror division of the Ministry has managed to ascertain that the key areas of these events are the larger all-magic towns and cities, with much corruption within the governments of the countries, as well as the schools."

"The schools?" asked Remus sharply.

"You have no doubt read the news about the break-in's on Grimbit's?" she replied, riffling through her papers.

"Grimbit's?" asked Harry in confusion.

"The Polish School of Magic," whispered Hermione, eyes never leaving the sheaves of notes she was taking. 

"Of course we have," said a tall man with a crooked nose, "but what does it all mean? What are they looking for?"

" I believe, as does Professor Dumbledore, they were looking for something-"

"Or someone," muttered Ron to Harry.

"-that is considerably well protected, yet not well enough to deter the intruders."

"Yes, but what?" asked Remus thoughtfully.

"Maybe we must first ask ourselves what Grimbit's is like," said Dumbledore standing up, "it is roughly the same size as Hogwarts, with a maximum 1000 students. However, it is not secluded as Hogwarts is. The school is set in the centre of the town of Veliko Tărnova, the students have free access to the town at any times, baring in mind some curfews. It would be easy for someone to break into the school - no apparation wards have been set up yet, and it guarded by nothing more than the town around it…"

Everyone pondered this information, and Dumbledore looked deep in thought. 

"It may be that the school is hiding some kind of artefact that would be of special significance of the Dark Side. Maybe a power source or some such thing? Something, they need, but don't have…"

Harry tried to think of something that would fit that description, his thoughts immediately settling on something he hadn't thought about for some time… 

Harry cast a look around an cleared his throat, feeling nervous to be addressing that many people.

"Professor? Could it maybe be something like the Philosophers Stone?"

This got people talking and they all looked to Dumbledore to hear his thoughts. 

"Yes…" said Dumbledore with a secret twinkle in his eyes, "That certainly rings some bells. However, the knowledge on how to make such a stone, is very _select_. It is certainly a possibility.

"Well…What do you propose we do about all of this?" asked Joseph Savoir, speaking for the first time and taking many by surprise.

"I have some ideas," said the woman with a nervous look at the Headmaster, who merely nodded warmly, "Dumbledore and I believe that we should infiltrate the major organisations - schools and ministries. And the way we are going to do this is like this…"

She pulled out six large files, and looked across to a certain area of the table.

"Two teachers will be sent to France and Germany, two of the three hotspots we have identified. They will meet the staff, gather information from the inside, staying there for two months before returning to update us. This is a strictly reconnaissance mission, with the main aim being information for when we spent in the manpower, got that?"

Harry nodded, as if she were directly addressing him, and she lifted the two files up.

"Remus Lupin, you will be sent to Germany, owing to your knowledge of the local language, and your recent auror qualifications."

Harry looked up in surprise, and saw Remus give a firm shake of his head. Harry mouthed wordlessly in shock, before turning to look at the map, eyes focussing on the hideously colourful area that was Germany, rife with dots of all descriptions.

"I understand," was all Remus said, in a neutral voice, taking the file of the woman, and flipping it open. 

"The second teacher is Arabella Figg. You will also leave your post at Hogwarts for two months to teach at Beauxbaton's Academy, owing to your past connections with the school. A replacement has already been secured for your classes."

Mrs Figg nodded, and received her file without a word, or a flicker of expression. He couldn't believe they were both being so calm about it all, they were being sent into the lions den after all. Harry looked at the four remaining files, before casting his eyes over the staff of Hogwarts, wandering who else was being sent away - McGonagall? Snape? 

"Our next decision may prove controversial, and the people in question must understand that these orders and not binding, they are free to decline…"

Harry frowned, and felt the sudden perk in interest - who was it and why were they granted special treatment over others? He noticed the sudden shiftiness in the woman's eyes, as she split the files into two piles. Harry liked this less and less.

"Two teams will also be sent to Beauxbaton's and Grimbit's - with the simple aim to infiltrate the student population."

Harry felt his heart hammering against his chest, and the icy feeling of fear creeping over his body - he knew what she was going to say…

"The first team consists of Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley - who, if they consent, will join the sixth year at the Beauxbaton's Academy for two months."

Harry's mouth dropped open in shock and he looked at his two best friends quickly, who had both gone deathly pale and looked horrified at the news as the whispers and shouts broke out through the hall. The woman had to shout above the noise to make everyone hear her as she continued.

"This decision is based on the need to understand the state of the social structures within the magical communities, and the school is the hothouse of gossip - students are easier to trick and gain the trust of. We should be able to get detailed enough information on the families of the area."

Harry however, wasn't listening, he was staring at Hermione who was looking a cross between horrified and curious, whereas Ron just looked pale. His mom and dad were talking quickly between themselves and Charlie and Bill were watching their brother protectively. 

"So, Ron, Hermione…can you do this for us?" asked the woman.

Ron looked over to Hermione, who gave his a long searching look before giving the slightest nod of her head.

"Yeah, alright then," said Ron in a strangled voice, "we'll do it."

"Excellent," said the woman, sliding the two files across to them, "details of everything you need to know about Beauxbaton's will be in there, as long as a suggested list of supplies to take, language charms and such like."

There were dark muttering all around the table and Dumbledore was watching the two with a solemn look. The woman cleared her throat to begin again, and Harry sat up expectantly. He knew what was coming, he had already known what was coming as soon as he'd heard the others names. The only thing that bothered him now was who the second file belonged to, and where he was going.

"The second team will be led by Harry Potter," said the woman, confirming Harry's thoughts, but still coming as something of a shock, "who will attend Grimbit's. Again a two-month stay has been arranged, stretching from October 1st to November 31st. Your assignment is identical to the Beauxbaton's Transfer students."

Harry nodded to show he understood and gave a longing look at the other two - at least they got to be together. He looked across to Dumbledore who gave him a reassuring smile, before clearing his throat.

"Will I, be going…alone?" he asked hesitantly, eyeing the second file still. 

"No Harry, you won't," said Dumbledore suddenly, "the person chosen to accompany you, will also be a new member for the Order, who I ask you all to ratify and accept on these terms I set out now."

He paused and Harry sat on the edge of the seat, forgetting about the other witches and wizards who were sitting around him. 

"Who is it?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

Dumbledore gave him an odd smile.

"Catalina Firelight."

*

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AN/ Bum bum bummm. Wow that wasn't obvious _at all_! So sorry to be all fluff and no plot for so long, and to have really stupidly apparent "cliffhangers" But I'm busy with a little things called exams and I had the sudden urge to write today rather than complete my coursework.

No worries though, its HALF TERM! YAY!

Bloodredsword - You we're right, Sirius was the dog. And don't worry I am by no means a Gunner! I am a Wolverhampton Wanderer's fan, (Wolves) through and through! Our team just got promoted to premiership yesterday, so The Wolve's will be playing the Red Devils next season! Ohhhh, can you feel the rivalry!

Dementorchic - Thank you, as ever, hope you enjoyed this chapter as much, look forward to more reviews! 

Myrhfire Yeah, I know it's weird, but I was feeling in a Shakespeare mood after watching Shakespeare In Love (in which the actor from the fast show, who plays Ron's dad in the movies is in) and thought it would be a nice crossover.

Preciousgirl - Hope your busyness isn't anything to do with work, poor you! Hope you like the progression of the story.

Rhysel Ash - Thanks again for the review, I hope you enjoy the rest!

Riser155 - aha, so you think you know? Or do you juts want me to think, that you think you know. Ok…my head hurts now…

Slimpun604 I'm so glad you like my story! And that you read Firelight's heir as well, it's bound to make more sense this way round! I know its depressing at the beginning, but I figured it would be unrealistic if she jumps up from dying at the end of the last one and is completely fine! And as to your other question…you'll just have to wait and see!

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Dedicated to the WOLVERHAMPTON WANDERERS (THE WOLVES!) WHO WON THE DIVISION ONE PLAY-OFFS YESTERDAY! FIRST TIME IN THE PREMIERSHIP FOR 19 YEARS! Wohooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

(FOOTBALL TO ALL YOU UNEDUCATED!)

Please review…its what I write for!  



	14. Reactions and Reunions

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~*~*~ Chapter Thirteen ~*~*~

Reactions and Reunions

The fire leapt to life in the grate of The Burrow, and five figures eventually stumbled out, met by the three who were sat waiting at the table. 

Molly Weasley brushed the soot off three of her children silently, and ignored the questions of the three waiting siblings. Arthur had gone and poured himself a glass of a strong smelling amber liquid and seated himself at the table, also in silence.

"What did they say?" asked Ginny fearfully, annoyed at everyone's silence, "what's happened?"

Nobody said anything, and Ron lowered himself shakily into the chair. He was in complete shock. He was going to be sent to France, with Hermione, to spy on the _students _of the school? He couldn't understand why he'd been picked, apart from obviously his age and connections with Harry and Hermione. It wasn't like he was especially gifted or courageous, it wasn't like he was smart or could speak French - I mean why?

He fundamentally didn't understand. 

"Mum?" questioned Ginny in a shaking voice, "what have you got to do?"

"I haven't got to do anything love," she said in a tight voice, which made Ginny narrow her eyes suspiciously.

"Who does then?" asked Fred, obviously sensing the meaning between his mother's words. 

Molly didn't say anything, and Ron was too busy staring at the clock on the wall to see the looks the three others siblings gave each other. Charlie and Bill set about making some tea, and buttering bread for lunch.

"Tell us!" said George angrily.

"It's Ron," she said tearfully, and everyone whipped around to look at him.

"Wh - what?" stuttered Ginny, looking panic stricken.

"They're sending him to France, with the girl who comes around," said Arthur suddenly, "to Beauxbaton's, to investigate the Death Eaters there."

"What?!" cried Ginny loudly, jumping up and running over to Ron.

"Her name's Hermione, dad," said Ron vaguely, not fully comprehending what was going on.

"Please tell me you said no!" she asked him tearfully, grasping his hand tightly, "please tell me you're not going!"

"I have to Gin," he said with what he hoped was a reassuring smile, "this is important."

"No it's not! We're important!" she told him forcefully, "you're families more important than this!"

"Ginny dear," said her mother soothingly, "he'll be ok, Professor Figg is going with them, they'll be watched closely…they can come back whenever they want."

"No! You can't let him go!" she yelled at her mother, "he'll be killed!"

"Ginny-" began Ron awkwardly.

"You thought Percy would be ok! You sent him there! And now he's gone! GONE!" she was shrieking furiously, "you can't send another one of my brothers away to his death!"

"That's enough Ginny," said Arthur forcefully, "it's out of our hands now."

Ginny glared mutinously at her parents, still holding onto her brothers hand tightly. 

"How long for?" asked Fred suddenly, looking unusually serious, something Ron had seen on few occasions.

"Two months," said Ron quietly, focusing on the plate of sandwiches, "and then I'll be back."

The entire family sat down at the table, plates in front of them, and ate in awkward silence. Ron could see his sister getting more and more upset, struggling back her tears. She had been affected the most by Percy's disappearance and she had obviously convinced herself that Ron would be taking a portkey to his death. 

He couldn't take the tension anymore and stood up quickly, running up to his room and sitting on his bed, head against the wall as he thought. At least he'd be with Hermione, she would keep them out of trouble he consoled himself, and if she didn't, she'd know how to get out of it. 

There was a quiet knock on his door and he looked over in interest to see Ginny slide in. She crawled up onto his bed and sat next to him, sniffling slightly. Ron wrapped a brotherly arm around her.

"You can still tell them no," she said quietly.

"Ginny…" he began awkwardly, "this is much bigger than us now…what they want me to do is going to help a lot more people than me staying at Hogwarts."

"I don't care about everyone else," she said, hugging him tightly, "I just want my brother to be with me."

"You will Gin," he said with a watery smile of his own, "when I get back, I promise you can bug me as much as you want to."

She gave a laugh and a watery smile, "I don't _really _annoy you."

"No, I suppose not _really_," he conceded with a tight squeeze of her shoulder, "and believe me, you'll enjoy getting rid of me for two months."

"No I won't," she said quietly, "but I'll tell everybody I am, to keep up appearances right?"

"That's what I like to hear," laughed Ron, "we don't want anybody think we care about each other now do we?"

Ginny smiled into Ron's robes, feeling a little better now she'd spoken with her brother, but she knew it was all talk. By that night she would be just as worried and upset, she didn't want to have to write Ron's name next to Percy's on a list of the 'missing'. 

*

The first thing Hermione did when she arrived home, thanks to her parents newly connected floo fireplace, was head to her small library. She lived in a modest sized house, but had a large study in which her parents kept all her old textbooks and reading material on the magical world in a special revolving bookcase, in case someone came to the house.

Her parents were at work, and had no idea she had been to an Order meeting, or even that she was in the Order. It wasn't that she didn't trust them, she just didn't want to worry them, it was just easier this way.

She pulled out a book on the Ministry of Magic, and a selection of inks before setting to work on a piece of parchment, copying the emblem diligently from the front page. 

As she worked away her thoughts travelled to this latest piece of news. So she was going back to France? To study no less. It would be an amazing opportunity she chanted to herself, trying not to think about the real reason why. If she did, she thought she'd probably burst into tears.

Sometimes, she got the feeling she was far too young to be doing this. Why had she shown herself up like this, to allow herself to be counted among the few able to help? Why hadn't she kept her head down? Why hadn't she ran to her dorm to cry that Halloween during her first year, rather than run to the girls bathroom to be confronted by a troll? Had she not done that, how different would her life be? 

She wondered that if she'd never befriended Harry, she would still be doing this?

But then she shook her head in anger at herself, that was one link of a long chain in her life, it may have been a pivotal moment, but it wasn't a defining one. And if she had to choose between her life now, and the life she could have had - alone with her books, she knew which one she'd choose in a second. 

Books may be good, but they don't laugh with you, they don't tease you good naturally, they don't give you loyalty, they don't knock out a troll for you.

She sighed deeply, finishing her work with a flourish of her quill, before settling down to read a book she'd had for some time, _Beauxbaton's: A History_.

Some hours later, the Grangers found their daughter sat at the kitchen table reading a book that was propped against the wall, eating her dinner.

"Hello princess," said her father, kissing her on her head and squinting at the title of the book. 

"Hello daddy," she said excitedly, "you will never guess what has happened to me today!"

She handed them a well fingered letter, feeling the slightest twinge of guilt and their faces split into happy smiles. Her father read it out loud for the benefit of her mother.

__

Dear Miss Granger,

We are pleased to inform you that your application for transfer student status has been accepted. Beauxbaton's Academy of France has offered you a two-month stay within the school from the dates of October 1st to November 31st.

Please see the headmaster of your school to arrange matters further, we await your owl of acceptance by no later than September the 1st. 

Yours sincerely,

Edward Malthaus

Department for International Schooling

"You applied to study abroad?" asked her mother with a slight frown, "why didn't you tell us?"

"I didn't want to in case I didn't get offered a place," she said, feeling even more guilty, "what do you think? Can I go?"

"Of course sweetie," said her father, "its too good an opportunity to pass up! And in France no less!"

"Mum?" asked Hermione conscientiously, "is that alright?"

"Yes, of course love," she said, giving Hermione a hug, "we're so proud of you!"

Hermione hugged her parents, tears welling up in her eyes as she did so. She was so scared about what she was going to do, what she could find out, that she may just be walking into terrible danger, and that she'd managed to convince her parents that it was the most exciting news. 

*

Harry had said a shaky goodbye to Ron and Hermione some time ago, and had returned to the Gatehouse with his head swimming. He was going to Poland? He was going to collect information of Death Eaters activity there? He was going with _Catalina_?

Sirius had stayed behind to talk to Dumbledore about something that must have been top secret, and he had come back with Remus, who hadn't said much. He was currently in the kitchen studying away, reading up on the German school of magic. Harry was in the living room, pacing around anxiously. He was nervous, _very _nervous. Not exactly about him, although that was taking up a large part of his thoughts, but also about Catalina. Would she go? What happened if she didn't? Would she be in danger from the Death Eaters? What if her father found out?

There were a million and one questions he had to talk to her about.

Another thought popped into his nervous mind, an excited voice. He was going to Poland, he was going _abroad_! The furthest Harry had ever travelled in his life was to Scotland, where he presumed Hogwarts was located, but now he was going to go to another country! How amazing must that be? Catalina was more than used to it now he supposed, but he remembered what she said on her last day in St Mungo's, she really wanted to visit Eastern Europe, she would probably really enjoy herself there.

Another troubled voice interrupted his fast moving thoughts - what if she liked it too much? What if she didn't want to come back? 

He ran a shaking hand through his hair, he was so mixed up. One half of him was looking forward to his adventure, but the other half (maybe it should have been a larger half, if that was possible) was terrified at the prospect. He was getting himself so worked up that he had to sit down and try and breath normally.

Finally he couldn't keep it in anymore, he ran through the house to find Remus and ask him something. 

*

Catalina sat at the large table in silence, watching her plate avidly as all around her people chattered. They were eating potatoes for dinner, again. She wondered vaguely why her grandparents liked potatoes so much, she guessed it was just inborn in the Irish. 

She was having a 'family dinner'. Which meant two aunts, an uncle, and five cousins were squashed around the polished wooden table in the dining room, all happily eating away and reminiscing about a past that Catalina didn't know, understand or particularly care about. 

"Would you like some sprouts with that Catalina?" asked her grandma kindly, holding out a bowl of foul smelling mini-cabbages.

"No thank you," said Catalina with a grimace.

"Good on ya Cat," said the girl to her left in a low voice, "I can never say no to our gran. You've got a gift!"

Catalina nodded silently, and poked her mash idly. She didn't want to be here, she wanted to be anywhere _but_ here. She felt so closed in, so _watched_. She cast a terrified look at the window suddenly, as if this thought would be suddenly proved right. There was nothing there, only the small garden bursting with colourful plants and the run down rusted Volkswagen which perpetually sat on the tarmac. 

Her 'family' kindly never spoke about her past, her mother or her father with her, all of the subjects were too painful for the typical Irish family to speak about, but which left the topics of conversation with her slightly limited. 

They were just getting finishing pudding when there was the sound of a thump from the living room. They all looked up, Catalina first, at the feeling that had come over her. Her granddad got up and shuffled into the room and Catalina couldn't contain the grin of expectation. 

There was a few moments of silence and she heard her granddad coming back.

"I found this," he said, dragging a black haired boy into the room by his elbow, "skulking around the living room, so he was."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to," he said in a rush, cheeks flushing, "I came to see Catalina."

"Harry?" asked Catalina blankly, she'd known it was him, but she had no idea _why_ he was there. 

"Alright Catalina?" he said, with a nervous look at her granddad, who was glaring at him pointedly. 

"Harry?" asked the newly graduated witch sitting next to Catalina, "Harry _Potter_?"

"Er…yeah," he said in embarrassment, as her whole family stared at him.

"Well, introduce us then Catalina," said her second aunt.

"Erm…right. Harry this is my Auntie Sheila and Marge, my cousins Shaun, Dermont, and er…Siobahn, Niamey, and Karey," she said, desperately trying to remember their names without be obvious, "and my Uncle Paddy… you know Derek and Rose."

"Hello," he said with a small wave, looking intensely awkward.

"So this is the guy who kidnapped my niece?" asked her Uncle with a serious face. 

"Well…not _intentionally_," said Harry quickly, before everyone burst out laughing.

"Were just taking the Mick, son, don't worry your head," he told Harry, who visibly relaxed. 

"What are you doing here?" she asked suddenly, taken aback by his presence somewhat.

"I need to talk to you about something," he said with a meaningful look in her direction.

"Oh, ok," she said getting up immediately, "Rose, do you mind if just go and…"

"No of course not," flapped her grandma, "no disappearing this time though, you hear?"

She nodded guiltily, before leaving the table and walking Harry into the living room.

"In private?" he asked her quietly, nodding towards the open door that separated the two rooms.

"Oh, right," she said cautiously, before walking upstairs.

She pushed the door open to her room, and flicked on the light as all the daylight was blocked out by the heavy curtains pulled across the small window. She looked around and realised with her heart in her mouth that her school trunk was lying open next to her bed, the red letters just visible. She scurried over to it and snapped the lid of it down, causing Harry to jump a foot from the ground.

"Sorry," she apologised, listening to his worry and anxiety bounce around her heart, "what's up?"

"Ok," he said with forced calmness, "right…before I tell you, you've got to promise me you're not going to freak out, ok?"

"About what?" she said, feeling worried already.

He paced around the room a little, running his hands through his hair again. Every single mannerism said he was nervous, she didn't need to be able to read his emotions to know that. But as to the reason, she had no idea.

"Ok," he started again, "I went up to the Order meeting today, remember?"

"Yes," she whispered now, feeling even more fearful, "I remember."

"Well…they gave everyone assignments," he began awkwardly, "of things they had to…do, this year."

"What are you doing?" she asked immediately, noticing his weary sigh, "what is it?"

"Right…it's like this. I'm just going to come right out and say it. I'm being sent, to Poland's school of magic, for two months," he said, disbelief lacing his every word, "to investigate, the Death Eater activity there."

Catalina went deathly white, and a self-conscious hand clamped itself over the crook of her arm. She stared at Harry, silently mouthing something she couldn't quite put into words.

"Y - you can't!" she finally cried, wide eyed.

And he really couldn't. He couldn't leave her at Hogwarts all on her own, she _needed _him to be there. He couldn't just go off like that! It was dangerous! He could get hurt! Killed even!

"I have to now," he said pleadingly, "listen, please don't freak out ok?"

"But you cant! You can't just go waltzing off to Them! They'll kill you Harry!" she cried, standing up and gesticulating wildly, "you can't just go off on your own! They can't let you!"

"I'm not going to be on my own," he said quietly, watching his feet.

"Well, whose going with you?" she asked, folding her arms across her chest, "huh? Who? Who's gonna be looking after you?" 

He closed his eyes and gulped nervously.

"You are."

*

Harry watched as she went, if possible, paler and sank to the floor as she put her hand across her mouth. He noticed that was shaking so violently that she looked as if she was outside in the biting cold. She looked positively terrified at the very thought.

"Wh - wh…" she said faintly, before gulping and trying again, "I…I don't, understand."

He walked over to her and sat on his haunches in front of her. He knew better than to touch her now, but it didn't stop the thought crossing his mind.

"They want you to come with me," he told her in a quiet voice, "because you're good with languages, because you've got…knowledge, because you can help me."

"I can't," she whispered hoarsely, "I can't do that, I can't! They can't make me!"

"I know they can't make you," he told her, searching her unfamiliar black eyes, "but we _need _you Catalina…"

"No…" she said, firmly shaking her head, "you don't…I can't…"

"Why can't you?" he asked, sensing he was getting into something deep. 

"Harry," she moaned fearfully, "I can't see them again, I just can't. I don't want anything to do with them…they want to kill us…"

"We wouldn't see them," he told her, "we're staying at the school, just for two months, then coming home…"

"No Harry," she said, eyes saucer wide, "not after last time…what they did to me, you don't understand…"

"Listen Catalina," he said seriously, "I don't understand, I know. And I know something happened in there that you're not telling me…"

She look at him absolutely petrified, and he wondered wildly if she was going to faint, she looked that bad.

"You don't _want_ to know," she said in a choked voice.

"Would it help me understand?" he asked, trying to meet her wandering gaze.

She suddenly looked at him, as if sizing him up. She looked as if she wanted to tell him something, and he begged her to silently, knowing this was about as close as she was going to get. She took a deep inhalation.

"Maybe it would," she said quietly, "but do you want to understand?"

He gave her a look. Maybe he didn't want to know what happened, it would probably tear him apart to know the things that went on, completely out of his knowledge or ability to control. He loved her too much to be ale to see her get hurt again. 

"Perhaps not," he told her gently, "but I'm not completely unaware of the things They do…I've seen them, I've met them…I know what they're capable to do to others Catalina - _I've been there_. But you don't need to worry about that any more. Where we're going we'll be as safe as we would be anywhere else."

"Harry," she whispered again, raising her terrified eyes to his, "he'll find me…and when he does…"

"Who will? Voldemort?"

"No…my father."

Harry watched her for some moments, shaking and sweating at the very thought, looking positively disgusted yet terrified at the prospect at ever seeing him again. He took a deep breath.

"I wouldn't let anything happen to you."

"You can't protect me all the time," she said, with a faraway look in her eyes, "you may want to but you can't. He'll know we'll be there, and he'll come and when he does he'll-"

"-Have _us_ to face, ok?" said Harry firmly, "we're in just as much danger in this house right now, at Hogwarts, than we would be there…and we can help people Catalina…"

"God helps those who helps themselves," she whispered, "we need to stay away from Them as long as possible! Before he gets us!"

"Catalina," said Harry heavily, "I didn't come here to ask your permission, I'm in now, whether we like it or not…but I did come here to ask for your help…Please."

She gave a small sob, and Harry for the first time realised how sick and fragile she realised she was. She had been getting steadily better every time he'd seen her, but he could tell it was hard work to keep up the act, and that underneath it all, she was just a scared girl. 

"Please Catalina," he begged her earnestly, "I understand how hard this must be for you -"

"No you don't," she said hollowly, "you don't understand at all."

"Well tell me then," he said frustratingly, "make me understand!"

She looked at him, before giving a shaky sigh, "I am living my life on the edge at the moment, constantly thinking he's just around the corner. Just biding his time…I've hidden myself away from him for so long now, I don't want to put myself in danger."

"But if this goes well," said Harry, sitting down in front of her now, "we might be able to get him…this might bring him down. Then you could live your life without worrying about him at all."

"That's a pretty big if," she said, "and what if it doesn't go well? What if he captures you, and tortures you until the end? What happens then? Will that have been for the best? What would it have all been for? Who would you have saved then?"

"I'm not going to sit back and watch Voldemort take over again," said Harry firmly, "and destroys lives, tear apart families like he did mine…I'm not going to watch our world be broken up. People have already given their lives for the cause Catalina, because they believed they were making a difference. What if we could put a stop to him right now, if we could end the war before it began, wouldn't that be worth fighting for? Wouldn't that be worth dying for?"

She regarded him steadily, thinking deeply about his words and Harry could sense he'd gain the upper hand.

"Yes…"

He smiled at her words, although there was nothing humorous about the situation. 

"I know you're frightened, but we've got a chance now to change that…what do you say?" he pressed on, "will you help me?"

She cast a look over to her trunk before looking at him steadily for a few moments, "Yes."

*

Only two of the Weasley children would be returning to Hogwarts this year, and as such, it was a much smaller party that headed out for Diagon Alley only two days before term started. There had been too much going on at home this summer to go earlier, and the beginning of term had somehow crept up on Ron. 

Ever since they had found out about his surprise transfer to Beauxbaton's, Ginny had stuck to his side like glue. She had got it into her head that he was going to die, and nothing anyone said could prove otherwise, she seemed to be spending every day as if it were his last. 

However, today she was meeting her boyfriend in the Alley, and hopefully would be spending her day with him, leaving Harry, Hermione, Catalina and himself to go off by themselves. So it was with a jangling pouch of money and a slight spring in his step that he walked to Florean Fortescue's, where he was already 10 minutes late to meet them. 

He noticed Hermione first, sitting under an umbrella to the parlour, wearing a long skirt and a vest top. He forced himself not to ogle her, believing that she was doing anything in her power to make him stare. It was quiet embarrassing. And while on the subject of cringe-inducing thoughts, why not remind himself of the time he kissed her.

Oh yeah, here come the red ears.

He looked across the table to see Harry and Catalina sitting next to each other and he couldn't contain a grin. The three of them were chatting away, while Harry was staring at the long, black-haired girl, less than surreptitiously. He was just inwardly smirking at his best friend's love-struck look, when he joined the land of the living and spotted Ron, giving him a grin and a wave. Now it was Catalina's turn to watch him.

God, those two were unbearable. 

He trotted over, with an apologetic grin, "Sorry I'm late guys," he said, "Ginny was taking forever to get ready."

"No problem, we guessed you'd be late anyway," said Hermione sweetly, looking up and him with a grin. 

"Yeah well," he said rolling his eyes, "sisters, who'd have them eh?"

"We wouldn't know," laughed Harry.

"Yeah, you're right," he said good-naturally, sliding into the seat in between Catalina and Hermione, "good to see you again Catalina, how you feeling?"

She just stared at him, obviously taken aback by his casual manner. He sounded as if he'd not seen her for a few days or had had the flu. 

"Alright," she said cautiously, as if expecting him to say something else.

"Great. Nice bandanna by the way," was all she got by ways of an answer, before he picked up the menu, "are we ordering or what?"

She shot a look at Harry and rose a questioning eyebrow, who merely shrugged and gave her a grin. Honestly, Ron scoffed to himself, did they think he didn't notice, why did they have to be so tragic all the time and just admit they liked each other and get it over with. Ron had to remind himself that Harry already had admitted to her, but then again, he wasn't exactly being very pro-active was he?

"What do you want Hermione?" he asked, looking across to her tanned, smiling face.

"You offering?" she questioned slyly.

"If I have to," he sighed, mentally checking his pocket money. 

"So noble," she said with a roll of her eyes, "I'll have a banana split, without the-"

"-cream, I know, I know," he cut in.

She gave him a delighted look, as if him remembering the fact she hated cream was the ultimate compliment and he grinned at her innocently, "thought I'd forget?"

"Of course not," she said.

The perfect moment was only spoilt by Catalina and Harry sniggering not to quietly in the seat next to them, and Ron looked over, "what was that?"

"Oh nothing," said Harry emphatically, "nothing at all."

Ron glared at him, as he struggled to hold his laughter in, suddenly bursting out in peels of laughter when Catalina caught his eye.

"Right," Ron said gruffly, "I'm going to order now, you coming Harry?"

Harry recovered himself and pressed his lips together tightly, nodding his head. He stood up and Ron pushed him over to the counter a little more roughly than Harry thought was necessary. 

*

"What we're you laughing about?" asked Hermione curiously, when the boy's had left the table.

Catalina straightened up her pale features, "Like Harry said, nothing…"

"Yeah right," said Hermione sarcastically, "I believe that."

"It's just, you're so cute…the way you carry on," laughed Catalina, "it's just funny to see."

"The way we carry on?" asked Hermione, looking puzzled, before giving Catalina a horrified look, "you didn't _tell _Harry what I told you, did you? About…me and Ron, last year?"

"Well," said Catalina slightly hesitantly, "not _really_."

"Not really? How much is not really?" she asked in a strangled voice, going red. 

"Well, I may have said something about it…in a round about sort of way…"

"Ohmigod," said Hermione putting her head in her arms, "he knows doesn't he?"

"Well, is it so bad if he does?" questioned Catalina with a comforting smile, "I don't think it came as _much _of a shock to him, and he is your best friend after all."

"Yeah, I suppose so," she said softly, casting a look over to the guys, standing at the counter. 

What she wouldn't give to know what they were talking about right at that moment, she wondered vaguely as she watched them talking to each other in low voices about something. It didn't look like a serious conversation, and Hermione wondered if they ever did talk about…girls. They must have done at some point, it's just, they never struck her as being the gossiping type. 

She shook her head and turned back to Catalina, who had her pale face tilted towards the warm sun, hungrily soaking up the rays. She wondered why the girl didn't have a deeper tan, living in all those sunny places she had - maybe it was essentially because you could take the girl out of England, but you couldn't take England out of the girl. 

Although, sometimes she had trouble believing Catalina was English at all, today she looked positively Russian, with her black eyes and hair, pulled back under a dark blue headscarf. 

"You and Harry getting on ok?" she asked her suddenly, wanting to turn the tables.

"Yeah," she said, casting a look over to him and smiling slightly, "he's been very kind to me."

"You better get used to that," said Hermione light-heartedly, "he's one of those people."

She nodded thoughtfully, and gave Hermione an embarrassed grin, "I think he likes me…"

"You already knew that ages ago," she replied, "but the real question is, do you like him?"

She looked across to Hermione in surprise, and gave a smile that quickly affirmed it. Hermione grinned. They both liked each other, so where was the problem? Catalina was better now, there was nothing holding them back…nothing she knew about anyway.

"I do…" she said with a wistful smile, "I don't know what it is about him…he's so completely different, yet so completely normal…maybe it's the way he looks at me, or smiles, or the way he always seems to know what I'm thinking, or what's troubling me..."

She trailed off, and looked over at him again as he cracked a joke with Ron and burst out laughing, before shaking herself and giving Hermione a sarcastic smile, "don't I sound the mushy one."

"Not at all," said Hermione with a faraway look in her eyes, "I know how you feel…though I can't possibly see the attraction of Harry…"

"Hey!" said Catalina defensively, before her cheeks blushed bright red, "he was voted second most fanciable wizard in England by Witch Weekly!"

Hermione snorted with laughter at this statement, and couldn't control herself for some time, and Catalina soon had to join in, realising how she'd sounded all to well. The boys walked over with small smiles playing on their lips as they took in the hysterical girls.

"What's so funny?" asked Harry, lowering himself into his seat next to Catalina. 

"You wouldn't want to know," said Catalina, rolling her eyes at him.

Harry grinned and looked over to Ron with a shrug. 

*

Catalina wiped the tears from her eyes as Harry handed her a large ice-cream sundae, as much as they'd laughed at Ron for remembering Hermione didn't want cream on hers, Harry had still remembered she didn't want any nuts. She felt it wouldn't be right to point this out, and merely gave him a sidelong grin, as they all tucked in. 

She could only eat about half of hers as her daily potion always left her feeling slightly sick. She had wondered what the point in taking this potion was, if it made more sick than the virus's she contracted did, but then again she knew it really wasn't half as bad as throwing up every ten seconds. 

However, she ate slow enough to give everyone the impression she was keeping up and even joined in the light-hearted conversation they were having, feeling more peaceful than she had for a long time. The panic over Harry's news had worn off by now, she'd had days to mull over her thoughts about it, and she had come to a kind of secret deal with herself. She may be walking into danger, but she'd be getting away from Him, and his ever watchful gaze, and that would be good enough for her.

She was sick of the feeling of being watched, of being followed, and was enjoying sitting outside, in the sun, without that constant worry she might have an unexpected guest. 

"So," Harry was saying to her as she zoned back in, "as we missed your birthday a few months ago, we've decided to officially change it to today, for the sake of this year."

"Yeah!" piped up Hermione, "you can be like the Queen and have two birthdays! Your official one, and your real one!"

Catalina and Ron merely stared in confusion, while Harry and Hermione nodded cheerfully. 

"So, as you're the birthday girl today," said Harry, "we are going to go anywhere you want, and buy you anything you want as a present!"

"So long as it's under 15 galleons," added Ron.

"So long as it's under 15 galleons," repeated Harry, grinning at her.

She looked over to them, feeling herself getting emotional and gave them all a weak grin.

"You don't have to do that," she sniffled.

"Alright then," said Ron happily, "that's 5 galleons saved."

"Ron!" scolded Hermione, "she wasn't being serious!"

"I know," he said gloomily, "only kidding."

Catalina grinned at them all, "anything?" she asked them.

"Anything," they all said in unison.

"From anywhere?"

"From anywhere."

"Ok," she said, laying her spoon down, "follow me."

*

"A cat?" asked Harry slowly.

"Yes."

"You want a cat, of all things, for your birthday?"

"Yes."

"Wouldn't you prefer a nice book?" questioned Ron, "that's what Hermione always asks for…"

"Oi!" said Hermione shoving him, "I don't always ask for them, you just always give me them!"

"What? You don't like books?" asked Ron in confusion.

"Of course I do," she said huffily.

"So where's the problem?" he asked the world in general, "you like books, we give you books."

"I do like other things as well," she said irritably.

"Like what?"

"Come on," said Harry quietly to Catalina, "let's leave them to it."

They stepped away as Hermione began to jab her fingers into Ron's chest, when she got physical, there was no hope. Harry led the way to one side of the Magical Menagerie, past the changes of talking birds, invisible guinea pigs and purple toads to the cages of kittens.

"Why a cat?" he asked as she leaned over the rails.

"I don't know, I think they're cute…" she said, reaching down and tickling one under the chin. 

"Puppies are cute, little furry hamsters are cute, but cats? Cats are right up there with all the other evil, scratching things," said Harry, watching the assembling mass of claws take a swipe at her hand.

"Just because Crookshanks is a little temperamental," she said, giving him a grin.

"It's not just because Crookshanks is evil," he stated, "they don't give you any love, they just…abide you. I prefer dogs."

"Just because your Godfathers one," she said slyly.

"It's not," he said with a laugh, "Just answer me this, if they weren't cute and fluffy, and were slimy and scaly instead, but acted _exactly_ the same, you'd call them monsters wouldn't you?"

"You were scratched as a child weren't you?" she asked him breezily, lifting one of them out of the pen. 

"No," he said firmly, "well yes actually, but that doesn't make any difference."

"I tell you what," she said levelly, "if I find a kitten that you really like, and that really likes you, you can call him evil for the rest of your life."

"Fine," he said and leant on the rails with her.

They watched the little bundles of fluff for sometime, pointing out certain ones and doing the 'scratch test' on Harry. It seemed cats didn't like to tolerate him.

"How about that one?" Harry said, pointing towards a small black cat dozing on his back in the corner, "it looks vaguely dog-like."

She rolled her eyes at him, but reached forward and stroked the little kittens stomach. It opened a bleary eye and stretched before rolling to it's feet. It allowed Catalina to pick him up gently, and she handed it over to Harry. It was a dozey one to say the least, it didn't seem to particularly notice or care that it was being handled, and fell asleep right there and then in the palm of his hand.

"Aw!" sighed Catalina, "I think she like's you."

"She's not bad I suppose," admitted Harry as the other two walked over.

"Picked one out yet?" asked Ron, looking down at the kitten still asleep in Harry's hand.

"Look's like it," he admitted, handing it over to Catalina, "dig yours hands in your wallets guys."

Twenty minutes later, the four were walking down Diagon Alley, basket in the hands of Catalina, as her and Hermione cooed through wicker-work.

"What is it with girls and animals? Why do they have to speak like they're talking to a baby?" asked Ron to the world in general. 

"You know, you're seriously irritating me today," said Hermione warningly from in front of them.

"Ooh," said Ron teasingly, "better watch my step then eh?"

"Yeah you better," she replied curtly, as Catalina and Harry shared a look, and rolled their eyes in unison. 

"Well if I bother you so much, it's going to be living hell being around me for _two months solid_ as the only person that speaks your language," he told her.

"Don't remind me," she sighed, looking pained at the prospect.

"Hey, you're forgetting Hermione can actually speak French," said Harry to Ron.

"Oh yeah," he said looking disappointed, "well you can laugh Harry, I didn't realise you were fluent in Polish either."

"I don't need to be," he said simply, looking at Ron as if this was obvious, "I've got Catalina - the walking bilingual dictionary."

"Hey," she protested loudly, "I'm not bailing you out all the time - you're learning as well!"

"What's the point?" he asked her in surprise, "we've got language charms haven't we?"

Her and Hermione rolled their eyes in unison and tutted at the boys, who looked nonplussed.

"What!" asked Ron, "it's true!"

"They only last for half and hour at the most," said Hermione with a superior look, "and their notoriously inaccurate."

"I can't learn Polish!" said Harry looking distressed, "I can't even pronounce the name of the school!"

"Polska Szkola z Czary," said Catalina promptly, and they all turned and looked at her in surprise, "what! It's not _that_ hard."

"Say's you," muttered Harry, "you're forgetting the sum total of all my knowledge of world languages fall into two phrases…je m'appelle Harry and Ciao Belle."

"Ciao Belle?" asked Hermione and her and Catalina giggled loudly.

"Yeah," he said, slightly embarrassed, "so what?"

"Do you even know what it means?" asked Catalina with a grin.

"Sort of," he said, casting a look around the crowded street.

"You don't do you?" asked Hermione laughingly.

"Well no, not really," he admitted, before adding brightly, "but it sounds good."

"It's means 'goodbye beautiful,'" said Hermione with a grin, "where did you hear it?"

"A movie somewhere," he said, going red as Catalina and Hermione sniggered, even Ron joined in. 

"Alright, alright," he said irritably, "when you've all stopped laughing at me we can decide where to go…"

"Sorry Harry," said Catalina, holding a hand over her mouth, "_I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing with you_."

Her and Harry suddenly burst out laughing at the memory, when Catalina had stayed late at his a few nights ago, when he'd said the exact same words to her. Ron and Hermione shared a glance, sometimes they thought those two had their own secret world of codes and memories. 

In the end they headed over to Flourish and Blotts to buy their textbooks, as well as a couple of works for Hermione, who was reading up on French history. So as Ron and Hermione were checking out that section of the library, Harry led the way over to the books for their stay. Catalina began to check the shelves for books, as Harry leaned against them uninterestedly. It to was too hot both outside and in to be thinking about being sent away to a cold country for two months. Or at least, Harry thought it was cold, it _sounded_ like a cold country…

"Have you ever been there?" he asked her suddenly.

"Briefly," she said, her eyes not leaving the shelves in front of her. 

"What's it like?" he asked her curiously.

"I can't remember, I was only four at the time," she said with a small smile.

"Oh, right…" he said, casting a look over his shoulder, Hermione was hitting Ron across the head with a book for some reason, "do you think it's cold?"

"Cold?" she asked, looking at him bemusedly, "we're going to investigate…_stuff_, and you're worried that its going to be cold?"

He gave her a shrug and a smile and watched her distractedly as she turned back to the books. He decided he really liked her wearing her back in that scarf thing, before shaking himself slightly - _focus_.

"Are you enjoying today?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said softly, looking across to him through the gloomy, dust-filled air, "it feels…_normal_…you know?"

"Yeah," he said gratefully, he was glad she didn't realise how much frantic coaching he'd given the other two before hand to act normal - well more towards Ron really, who had performed brilliantly. 

"I told you everything would be ok," he said confidently, knowing fully well that September the 1st was going to be the real test.

She looked over and gave him a dry smile, "I've only got to convince the rest of the student population I'm not a traitorous murderer and I'm home free."

"They know that already," he said seriously, "you've just got to be your normal funny, witty self and you'll be ok."

She gave him a coy smile and he grinned back. The tender moment was only ruined by the sound of Hermione and Ron hissing loudly to each other behind them and the sound of the as yet un-named cat waking up and yowling. 

"What _are _you arguing about now?" asked Harry irritably over his shoulder, annoyed at being interrupted.

"Nothing Hermione's just being a know-it-all," said Ron walking up to them.

"Shut up!" she hissed loudly, "I was not, it was _you _being your usual thick-headed, selfish-"

"Enough," said Harry holding up his hands peacefully, "I don't particularly care. Have you got you're books?"

"Yes," said Hermione glaring at him.

"Right," he said, "and Catalina, you've got ours?"

"This ok?" she asked him, holding up a thick, black-bound book.

Harry squinted at the title, something about Polish Magical History. It looked good enough to him, so he led them over to the counter, and got out of the stuffy shop as soon as possible. It had grown overcast and the sun was dipping in the sky already. The crowds had thinned somewhat and as they debated where to head next, Catalina suddenly crept closer to Harry.

"We're being watched," she whispered looking pale-faced.

He didn't even bother to ask her if she was sure, and whipped around. The four of them looked around hesitantly and Harry moved closer to her and looked down worriedly.

"Where?"

But the question was needless because suddenly in front of them were two figures, the smaller of the second aimed something at their faces and before they had time to react, there was a bright flash. They all blinked desperately at the dots in front of their eyes and stumbled backwards. 

"Having fun shopping?" asked the voiced to the taller figure.

"Who are you?" was all Harry asked, moving until he was standing right in front of Catalina.

"Oh my, where _are _my manners?" asked the woman, extending a slender hand, "Ruby Goldwing, _Daily Prophet_."

"Oh I don't believe this," muttered Harry darkly, "get out of our way."

"Going anywhere special?" she asked sweetly.

"It's none of your business," he said bluntly, eyeing the woman with distaste.

"That's not very courteous," was all she said, giving him a brittle smile, "haven't you been taught any manners?"

"Haven't you?" asked Hermione, "or are these the kind of manners that say it's ok to shove a camera in someone's face without asking and printing lies and gossip?"

"Oh, feisty," said the woman, completely unfazed, "are you going on the record as saying the allegations printed lately in the paper are false then Harry? Would you like to give us the _real _story?"

"I'm going on record as saying nothing," said Harry, "now, _excuse me_."

The woman didn't move, and the camera went off again, this time in the direction of Catalina. 

"Catalina, darling, nice to see you again. May I be the first the welcome you back to society," she said, addressing over Harry's shoulder, "my thoughts are with you and your mother."

Catalina visibly paled, and Harry regarded the woman angrily. She took their collective silence as encouragement, and pulled out a notebook and quill, fixing them all with a bright smile. Harry didn't like the way she looked at all, like the cat who sat and watched a goldfish in a bowl, like it knew that at any moment, it could just reached a claw in…

"How are you feeling now you have been released from St Mungo's?" asked Ruby, curiously.

There was stony silence.

"Could you give our readers any indication about you're future plans in the UK?"

Ron glared at the woman venomously.

"Are you still be visited by you're Medic Officer?"

Nothing.

"Silly question really isn't it?" laughed the woman, not discouraged at all, "she was the one that reported you missing on Friday after all wasn't she?"

"And I suppose we've got you to thank for that lovely article?" asked Harry scathingly, he knew he shouldn't speak to her, but he was angry. 

"We're only reporting the truth to the public," she said, eyeing Harry a little less nicely now, "they have a right to know."

"You told them she had run away and had to be bought back by the police!" he said furiously, that article had been one of the least pleasant.

"Well, if that wasn't the truth, where was she?" asked the woman.

"She was-" he began furiously.

"Shut it Harry," said Ron suddenly, shoving him in the back, "let's go."

"Goodbye," said Harry coldly to the woman, walking away, hearing the bulb pop away annoyingly. 

"Until next time then," she said ominously. 

They walked down the street in silence.

"Are you ok Catalina?" asked Hermione, walking over a putting an arm around her shoulder. 

"I'm fine," she said firmly.

Harry was taken aback by two things. The first was that she didn't look as upset as he thoughts she'd be, merely angry. She seemed to be acting very strong for them. But that wasn't _really _what shocked him. What shocked him was seeing Hermione's arm was still slung around her shoulder, she wasn't lying on the floor electrocuted like he had always been. 

He stopped walking and stared at them unceremoniously. Ron shot him and look, and Harry stared at him, before shaking his head worriedly.

"Come on, let's go and sit down," suggested Hermione, leading them over to the Leaky Cauldron. 

Catalina and Hermione took the lead and Harry and Ron bought up the rear. 

"What's up?" Ron asked him quietly, so the girls couldn't hear.

Harry stared at the girls in front of him. He didn't understand. Was it just him? Did she just not like him? Was that the reason she didn't like him touching her at all? She didn't want him to because she didn't like him. He felt confused, he had _thought_ that maybe she liked him back…

"Harry?" asked Ron more urgently, "what is it?"

"It's nothing…" he said in a faraway voice, "it's nothing…"

"You sure, you look a bit shook up," he said with a look at his pale faced friend, "was it that reporter?"

"No," he said vaguely, before giving his friend a brittle smile, "come on."

They headed into the pub and found a small booth. Harry bought over four bottles of butterbeer and it was with a much more sedate and thoughtful group of friends that sat in the corner and talked. Catalina seemed to have brushed off her encounter with the reporter well, and seemed to be putting on a brave face for the others. 

Harry however was deep in thought, he didn't really join in with the conversation. He couldn't understand it at all. Was she scared of him? Was that it? Was she scared that he was going to hurt her? He thought that she trusted him, he'd never given her _any _reason not to. He felt so frustrated by it all. Catalina cast him a look and smiled. 

He didn't smile back, he didn't think he could. 

"We better get back," he said eventually when he looked at his watch.

"Yeah, ok," said Hermione getting up and gathering her bags, "let's go."

Ron explained he had to wait for Ginny, and Harry walked over to the floo fireplace, and said goodbye to Hermione, who stepped through with a wave. He and Catalina stood in silence for a few seconds, and she gave him a strange look. 

"Harry, are you-"

"I'll see you on the platform then?" he cut in, not feeling like having his head messed with anymore today.

"Oh, ok," she said, looking taken aback, "of course."

She picked up a handful of floo powder slowly, before turning to him suddenly with a frown, "Are you ok? You seem a little-"

"I'm fine," he said bluntly, "go."

"Right…see you then."

She stepped through the flames, clutching her basket to her chest. She disappeared with a frown on her face and he watched the flames for a few seconds.

"Ciao Belle."

*

****

AN/ Hello all, a less than enthusiastic Paffy writing at the moment…I have my first major exams tomorrow, so I am really worried. 

I hope you will all understand when I say I haven't really had time to write anything interesting for this chapter, or the fact that I'm not thanking people today.

Sorry, I will do next chapter.

Can I just say CONGRATS to the England football team, who beat Serbia-Montenegro 2-1 last weeks, despite not having Beckham - and also…

PEOPLE OF THE WORLD UNITE! I want us all to cheer on England who play Slovakia on Wednesday night, for a place in Euro '04.

And just to say…Is anyone else psyched about the fact that there's two weeks till the next book is out? Does anyone worry you'll hear spoilers, or that it will completely destroy the fic your writing?


	15. The Return

****

~*~*~ Chapter Fourteen ~*~*~

The Return

His trolley had a squeaky wheel, and it was really annoying him. Around and around it went, slowly driving him insane as he, Sirius and Remus strode across the car park and into Kingscross station. He would hopefully be meeting the Weasley's on the platform, or on the train later on. He had no doubt he'd see both Catalina and Hermione on the train as well.

He had done a lot of thinking since their trip into Diagon Alley, most of it negative, and had slowly come to the conclusion that Catalina was either scared of him, or his attention to her was unwanted, so he promised to just lay off her a little bit. He'd stick by her through everything, especially today, which he realised was going to be hard, but he wouldn't be so…expectant of her. He realised how much of an idiot he'd been the past couple of months, thinking a girl like her could ever like somebody like him. Catalina would probably end up with some rich foreign tycoon and laugh with him about the time Harry Potter had a crush on her. 

So it was going to be with his head firmly set into the 'friend' mode that he approached the barrier, running through in between the two men. There was 15 minutes before the train left and the platform was packed. His long accustomed fan club of whispers began up, fuelled by the presence of the two men even more. He didn't see anyone, and struggled with his luggage into their usual compartment. 

He hopped back down to see Hermione run through the barrier on her own, and waved her over.

"All set?" he asked her with a smile as they hefted the trunk up into their compartment.

"Yeah," she puffed, "let's keep our finger's crossed for this year eh? No more nasty surprises."

"Yeah right," said Harry, rolling his eyes, "every year we ask for that and what do we get? More strife!"

"I know, nothing like wishful thinking eh?" she said with a grimace.

They hopped back onto the platform, and walked over to Sirius and Remus, who were keeping an eye out for the other two. In no time Ron, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley entered and walked over to them.

"Alright Ron?" asked Harry, "I was going to ask if you needed a hand, but you've already got it covered I see."

"Yeah alright Harry, thanks for the offer."

Hermione had already grasped hold of the other handle and they disappeared into the compartment.

"You need help Ginny?" he asked the tall redhead. 

"Sure, grab the other end," she said and Harry lifted the trunk easily - it was at least two stone lighter than Hermione's book-laden one. 

Soon they were back on the platform and Harry was nervously checking his watch, she was going to miss it if she wasn't careful. No sooner had the thought appeared in his head did he see Catalina come through the barrier. Despite the unusual heat, she was wearing a long sleeved jumper and trousers and her long sheets of hair had been pulled forward to hide as much of her face as possible. 

Without the visual conformation he would still have known it was her by the sudden hush that had fallen over the platform, like the sound of a hundred lowered voices suddenly pricking up their ears and eyes to a sight. He was surprised and angered to see some of the openly staring and hostile gazes she was getting. She didn't seem to notice however, and strode in look pale and tense.

Harry walked over and she gave a startled jump when he turned up behind her. 

"Harry!" she gasped, "you scared me - don't sneak up on people like that!"

"Sorry," he apologised with what he hoped was friendly, neutral, I-don't-fancy-you, grin, "need help?"

A few minutes later the trunk was stowed away and Harry climbed back off the platform, to say goodbye to everyone.

"Remus," he said walking over, "thanks for everything…the room, the food, everything…"

"Least I could do Harry," he said with a kind smile and a shake of his hand, "you've been a pleasure to have."

"Take care in Germany," Harry said with a worried smile.

"And you in Poland," he added, "we'll be fine I'm sure."

Harry gave a nod and turned to Sirius. He never thought he'd live to see the day his Godfather could stand on the Platform in plain daylight to say goodbye to him. 

"It's been a long summer," Harry remarked.

"That it has," agreed Sirius, with a look over to Catalina, who was looking around her nervously, "take care of her, and yourself."

"I'll try," said Harry with a grimace, for some reason he never managed to keep these promises.

Sirius held out his hand to shake, but when Harry took it he pulled him into a fatherly hug.

"And I mean it this time," he told Harry firmly, "keep your eyes open."

"I will," replied Harry, "and you look after yourself, you hear?"

The whistle blew on the side of tracks and everyone gave a hasty jump. Last minute goodbyes were yelled as everyone clambered aboard, sitting down just as the Steam Engine gave a lurch to life, and began its steady progress towards Hogwarts. 

"And back again we go," said Ron with a grin, sitting in his seat, "you looking forward to it?"

"I am," said Hermione, "I really need to use the library…"

"Yeah, I should have known," muttered Ron.

Harry could sense a storm brewing, so he zoned out, staring at the scenery flashing by. The compartment was noisy today, two cats, two owl's and Cupio were all tied up in baskets along the seats, accompanied by the snipes of Ron and Hermione. Catalina had sat back with a muggle walkman clamped over her ears. Harry stared at it. 

"Where did she get that from?" he wondered out loud, hoping to break apart Ron and Hermione for a few seconds. 

"Her cousin," said Hermione automatically.

"How d'you know?" he asked in surprise.

"Well, they're half-and-half aren't they, I'm sure they just gave her something to pass the time," said Hermione with a shrug.

"What is it?" asked Ron watching her curiously, "does it make you fall asleep?"

"No," laughed Hermione as she watched Catalina with her eyes closed peacefully, "it's a radio, and it can play tapes of music you've recorded."

"I can't hear anything," he said, listening intently.

"It plays it straight into her ears, so no one else can," said Hermione, in full professor-mode. 

"Oh…It won't work in Hogwarts," said Ron suddenly with a superior smile, "will it?"

"No Ron," said Hermione with a pleased smile, "it won't."

Harry grimaced and looked away in disgust…looks like he had had nothing to do for the trip.

He played snap with Ron a few times, before settling down to read the book on Poland Catalina had lent him. The time passed by hideously slowly, and soon Hermione was sleeping soundly, with a book sprawled across her lap. Harry glanced across to see that Catalina had fallen asleep as well, curled up on the seat against the window opposite to him. 

She had a frown on her lips in her sleep and her fists were clenched tightly. Harry worried if she was having a nightmare, and whether he ought to wake her up, before shaking himself. He didn't have to be so possessive about her he'd told himself. Stop worrying…

However, he realised he'd have a lot to worry about this year if his first visitor to their compartment was anything to go by. It was Malfoy, and Harry glared at him with increased hate when he saw him - how dare he show his face around when his dad was off skulking in Europe with the rest of the Death Eater flock. 

"Get out of here," growled Harry as soon as he stepped through the doorway, not taking his eyes off the chess game he was currently playing with Ron. 

"Hello to you too, did you have a nice summer Malfoy, why yes I did, thanks for asking Potter," said Malfoy, leaning against the wall casually.

"I don't give a toss if you had a nice summer," said Harry simply, moving his pawn across the board, "now get lost."

"If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not," he said sliding in, "I want to spend some quality time with my classmates."

Ron and Harry looked over to him incredulously to see him smirking evilly back at them. He looked over to Catalina and Harry automatically narrowed his eyes at him dangerously. 

"It's brave of her, don't you think," he said simply, staring at the sleeping girl, "to come back…"

"Why wouldn't she?" asked Harry contemptuously. 

"Well, if _I _was her, I'd watch my back," he said ominously, "there are a lot of people in this school who aren't particularly happy about having a Death Eater sitting next to them at lunch."

"She is not a Death Eater," said Harry through gritted teeth.

"Let's put that to the test shall we," said Malfoy evilly, walking towards Catalina.

Harry stood up like a shot and blocked his way. He was only a few inches taller than Malfoy and stared down at him challengingly.

"You are not going to even _think_ of touching her this year, ok?" he told him and Malfoy merely stared back.

After a few minutes, Malfoy stood down and gave Harry another of his trademark smirks. 

"Getting possessive in your old age Potter?" he asked, with a lingering look at Catalina, "I wouldn't put too much of your hopes on her, she'd bolt as soon as look at you, she's done it once already…I'm surprised she came back…"

"You can get out now, ok?" said Harry shoving him backwards.

Meanwhile Catalina was being woken up by the voices. Her tape had stopped some time ago and she could hear angry voices around her, at first she thought it was part of her dream, but then they became clearer, and the images in her head skitted away from her.

She pulled her eyes open to see to blurry figures standing in front of her. She sat up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, yawning widely.

"We there yet?" she asked, looking at the nearest figure.

She got the shock of the life when she realised who it was. Malfoy junior. She gave a huge start and shuffled backwards rapidly, away from the horribly smirking, familiar face.

"Good morning sleepy head," he said cheerfully.

"Get away from her," said Harry sharply, tugging the back of Malfoy's robe hard.

She was breathing sharply, trying to get her rapidly beating heart under control - for a second she remembered how much like his dad he really looked like. 

"Surprised to see me?" asked Malfoy pleasantly.

"Out…NOW!" said Harry fiercely, pushing him out of the compartment.

"Alright, just one more question…" said Malfoy irritably, shrugging off Harry's hand in distaste, "heard from your father lately Catalina?"

All colour drained from her face and for a second Harry thought she might pass out. Malfoy seemed to enjoy the reaction, but the smile was soon wiped off his face when Catalina looked him in the eye fiercely.

"No, have you heard from yours?" she asked.

Harry realised that Catalina and Malfoy had more in common than he bargained for as they both stared each other down. It was true Catalina was terrified at the mention of her father, he could feel the waves of fear crashing down on him, but she was proving more resilient than he had imagined. 

"My fathers in America," said Draco loudly, "on a business trip."

Ron and Harry scoffed loudly and he spun around a pointed a shaking finger at them both.

"If you read the _Daily Prophet_ a little more, you'd know that," he hissed spitefully, "which I'm surprised to hear you don't - I would have thought you'd keep tabs on the whereabouts of your little princess…checking she's not got herself overdosed or swinging from the ceiling!"

He looked at them all in contempt and stalked out of the room before Harry or Ron could retaliate in her defence. They stared at the door he'd just walked through for a few moments before Harry lay a reassuring hand on Catalina's shoulder.

Before the words 'don't worry' had formed in his mind, let along mouth, she shrugged off his hand violently, and scooted closer to the window. 

Hermione sat up and yawned loudly to see Catalina curled up in a ball on the chair and Harry standing over her looking as if he'd just been punched in the gut, or given some really bad news.

"Did I miss something?" she asked blearily, in time to see Harry stride from the compartment, slamming the door on his way out. 

Ron walked out as well, probably to stop Harry hitting whoever he was looking so angry at and Hermione was left with Catalina who suddenly burst out into tears, which splashed down her pale face and onto her jumper. 

"Catalina? What's a matter?" asked Hermione cautiously, getting up and wrapping an arm around her friend. 

"I hate my life," she wailed incoherently as she hugged Hermione, "I hate it! And I hate Him, for making me like this! I hate it!"

"Why, what happened?" cried Hermione, distressed at her friends violent reaction.

"Malfoy."

It was all she had to say, Hermione hugged her tightly, and hoped wherever Ron and Harry were, they were giving Malfoy an extra hard kick for her.

*

But Harry hadn't gone to find Malfoy, he'd gone to find a bit of peace and quiet. He found a small compartment that was empty and strode in, sitting on the seat and staring straight a head for a few seconds. Trust Malfoy to spoil everything, trust him to go and put his size nine's in it…_again_. 

He lent forward and put his head in his hands, rubbing his face hard. Well if that hadn't just been the proof of the pudding, he thought grimly, if you'd needed anymore proof that Catalina really _didn't_ like him, he'd just gone and got it. He felt sick, sick to his stomach to think that she didn't like him anymore. He couldn't figure out what he'd done wrong, it had been getting better lately. Then a horrible thought struck him - what if she _never _liked him from the start…

He ran his fingers up to his hair and held his head in frustration - lest he start knocking it against the wall - maybe it would knock some sense into him. He studied the dusty floor, trying to think of any other reason why Catalina was acting like she was, but couldn't come up with one. 

He heard the compartment door slide open, and close again, before Ron's slightly battered shoes came into view. He sat down in the seat opposite him.

"Is it Malfoy getting you down?" he asked him after a brief silence.

"Maybe," said Harry glumly, rubbing his face again.

"Doesn't sound like it to me," said Ron, "sounds to me like if it was him you'd be marching down that corridor right now and beating the shit out of him."

"Maybe later," replied Harry, still staring at the floor. 

"Ok, now I know there's something wrong with you," teased Ron half-heartedly, "passing up a chance to beat up Malfoy?"

Harry gave a sigh, thoughts a million miles away. Ron leant back against the seat and pulled his legs up until he was sitting cross-legged and looked outside as if for help.

"What's really up?"

Harry thought for a moment, unconsciously biting his nails, before asking Ron a question that gave him no pleasure, or saved him few blushes.

"Ron, how do you know if a girl likes you or not?"

Ron gave a whistle and sat back further in his seat.

"Man, you're getting into deep water here," he said causing Harry to give a grim smile, "and I can honestly say I haven't got the foggiest."

Harry nodded frowning, and continued to stare at the floor, which he was finding intensely interesting.

"This is about Catalina," stated Ron, picking at a loose thread on the couch.

"Yeah," admitted Harry wearily, "I don't know mate…I _thought_ that you know, maybe she liked me…"

"She does," said Ron confidently.

"But how do you know?" asked Harry worriedly, "for all we know I might be getting this _completely _wrong! Maybe she just likes me as a friend…"

"I'm just going on what I see," said Ron awkwardly.

"But looks can be deceiving," quoted Harry desperately, "can't they? I mean, I honestly don't think that she likes me like that."

"Well, how do _you_ know?" asked Ron, taken aback by the certainty in his best friends voice. 

"I've…come to realise it Ron," said Harry sorrowfully, "it was right in front of my face the whole time - it as practically the reason why she went to her father in the first place anyway! She wasn't to get rid of me and our connection then…I've been so stupid…_so, so _stupid."

"Are you sure Harry?" asked Ron worriedly.

"I'm positive," he said morosely, before laying back in the seat.

Ron watched him putting his hands over his eyes and felt supremely sorry for Harry - it was tearing up his friend to see the person he loved didn't like him back. Ron thought how terrible that must be and silently wondered what he'd have done if Hermione decided she hated him after all. 

He suddenly realised that he was lucky to have Hermione like him back and vowed to himself to do something about it when they got back to school, instead of sitting around like lemons, not sure of what to do.

"My life sucks," muttered Harry from the depths of his hands. 

*

They walked back into the compartment to see a red-eyed and tear-stained Catalina looking out of the window clutching her cat tightly, with Hermione sitting next to her. Hermione gave them a worried smile, as if to show them that all was fine, and Catalina looked across to them. 

Harry avoided her eyes.

They sat down opposite them and Harry tried to act normal, he really did.

"What did you do?" she asked them eventually, a little fearfully.

"Nothing," said Ron cheerfully, saving Harry the trouble of answering, "got side-tracked by the lady with the trolley."

He handed them over a few sweets as if to prove this and all was quiet as they thoughtfully chewed their chocolate. Harry however was feeling guilty for some reason, and was happy to feel the train slowing down shortly, followed by the unmistakable thumps of luggage hitting the floors. 

They stepped off the train to a wall a cold air, and they instantly pulled their robes around them, teeth chattering. The huge outline of Hagrid could be seen ahead and he gave them all a cheery wave.

"See yeh guys after the feast?" he roared across the platform while many people turned to look at them curiously.

"Sure!" shouted Hermione, as they headed towards the coaches. 

Harry had become increasingly aware that the four of them had a little insular of quiet surrounding them, and he looked across to see many staring, curious faces looking back - or mostly at Catalina. In their immediate vicinity everyone was whispering quietly, pointing and looking at them and Harry was glad Hermione and Catalina were talking together in low voices and weren't taking any notice. 

They climbed into a coach and settled down waiting for it to go. A figure appeared in the doorway and began to mount the stairs, Hermione gave her a bright smile.

"Hi Lavender, Parvati," she said cheerfully, "have a nice summer?"

Lavender froze on the top step and swept her gaze across the room.

"Er…hi…Hermione," she said nervously, backing down a step, "everyone. Looks like there's no room for us, we'll just be going -"

"There's plenty of room Lavender," said Hermione nicely, shifting up against Ron, "here, you can sit by us."

"No, I don't think so," she said hastily, climbing back down.

She slammed the door shut and there was a lingering silence in the compartment. Ron took in the scene with a sinking heart. Catalina was blinking back the tears, trying to put on an unconcerned face as she sat on one side of the long seat, while Harry sat at completely the other end, staring out of the window glumly. He hadn't said two words since they left their second train compartment and Ron hoped he was ok.

"What's up between them two?" whispered Hermione quietly, "they haven't spoken to each other the whole trip here."

"I'll tell you later," muttered Ron as the coach bounced to life.

It swayed in the wind and rattled up the drive to the castle, its occupants silent. Ron hoped this wasn't a taste of things to come as he watched them both staring out of opposite windows, depression settling on them like a heavy cloud.

*

"Welcome all to another year at Hogwarts," came the clear voice of Professor Dumbledore across the Great Hall, "I hope this place is, and will continue to be, like a second home for you all. But before we settle into the lovely feast that has been prepared for us all, I would like to make a few notices."

Harry sighed, more notices. He was hungry, those few sweets they'd stolen off Ginny on the way back to the compartment had been ages ago and his stomach was protesting at the thought of waiting another ten minutes. 

"Firstly, we have a new member of staff joining us today. He will be taking over from Professor Figg, as she has been offered a part time place to teach abroad," began Dumbledore, as the halls filled with sad whispers, Professor Figg was well liked.

"Her replacement has travelled a great distance to be with us," he said, eyes twinkling in the candlelight, "so I would like you all to give an warm Hogwarts welcome to Professor Tze when he arrives!"

Harry gaped in astonishment, as did Ron, Hermione and especially Catalina at this news. There was a light spattering of applause and some interested whispering on the subject of _another_ new Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher, they really thought they'd broke the curse over the job.

"Did you know?" asked Ron as he clapped along.

"No," said Harry, feeling supremely shocked, "he didn't say a word."

"Secondly, I am pleased to announce that on the advice of the Prefects and in conjunction with the Heads of the school, a new common room has been added to the school," began Dumbledore as everyone looked up in interest and confusion, "now this room is for all houses and years to enjoy and use together. We have to give great thanks to Mr Jurczenko of the Ministry of Magic's technology department for presenting us with a number of useful gadgets and equipment. As I'm sure some of you are no doubt aware, muggle technology does not work within the castle walls - but we have managed to secure a few items that should interest you."

"What's all this?" queried Hermione, looking excited at the prospect of investigating these 'gadgets' further.

"Sounds interesting," muttered Ron as quiet began to descend on the Hall once again.

"And lastly I would just like to say this to _all _students. Hogwarts is a place where people of all backgrounds, cultures, upbringings and ages are welcome, and we do not tolerate behaviour that goes against these virtues," he said, looking unusually serious, "anyone found breaking the rules will be dealt with swiftly. I would also like to add that you may not particularly like us at most times, but the Professors and I are here to help you. If you have a problem, you come to us and we will do everything in our power to help you."

And with that he abruptly finished and sat down. There was an unsure applause, as if people didn't know whether this was something to be clapped to, and the tables soon filled with food. The noise level increased and everyone tucked into the feast happily.

"What do you reckon that common room thing was all about?" asked Ron through a mouth of mash potato.

"I don't know," said Hermione with interest, "sounds like they've got round some of the anti-muggle barriers anyway."

"Maybe they've bought a tv?" asked Harry curiously as he took a sip of his drink, "or a radio or something."

"A tv?" said Catalina, looking at Harry for the first time in ages, "the moving pictures?"

"Yeah, like at the Gatehouse, remember?" he said, focusing carefully on his food as he spoke. 

"It'd be interesting to see how they've got around the barriers anyway," said Hermione as Ron laughed at her.

"What?" she asked indignantly.

"Don't you ever get tired of learning things?" he asked her with a cheeky grin.

"No," said Hermione blankly, "why would I?"

Ron chuckled appreciatively and carried on piling his food on. Catalina was poking at the small dish of food she'd plated up, reflecting on something. Harry could feel her confusion and he guessed it might be towards the way he'd been acting all day. He could have saved her the bother and told her, because the fact was he didn't know _how _to act around her anymore. He'd forgotten how to just see her as a friend. He just needed a bit of time right then, to figure out his thoughts and remember how to just be friends again.

"Harry," she said suddenly, in a troubled voice, "are you ok?"

"Can you pass the potatoes?" he asked her.

"Here…" she said, frowning deeply, "It's just you seem a little-"

"Do you want some?" he asked her, offering the bowl as she shook her head, "oh, alright then."

She regarded him with an odd expression on her face for a few seconds, before trying again.

"_Are _you ok? Did Malfoy-"

"Do you want some Pumpkin juice?" he asked, cutting in.

He knew he was being childish, or unusually stubborn, but it had been a long day, and he was tired and he wanted more than anything to go to sleep and wake up and have forgotten everything that had happened. 

"Will you stop avoiding my questions!" she said looking frustrated.

"Will you stop bugging me with questions, then I won't need to," he replied.

Catalina looked down at her plate, face flaming, before silently picking up her fork. She hid her face behind her hand as she ate behind a curtain of hair. Ron and Hermione however had been watching the unfolding scene with mounting horror. They'd never really heard Harry speak out of turn like that to any of them before, and definitely not to Catalina. 

Hermione looked over to Ron wide-eyed and mouthed across to him, _what is up with him_.

He shook his head warningly, _You don't want to know_.

But Hermione did, whatever was up with Harry, he didn't have to take in out on Catalina. It had been a hard day for her from the start, and it wasn't going to get much better. It didn't help by having the one person Catalina truly trusted mouthing off at her. 

When they got up to go to the dorms, Hermione rushed forward and walked alongside Harry, who was staring at the floor looking more morose than usual. 

"You better have a good reason," said Hermione in an cold voice, "that's all I can say."

"Maybe I do," he replied.

"She does _not _need this Harry," she told him warningly, "you of all people should know that."

"Yeah, me of all people," he said irritably.

"Listen, what is up with you?" she asked him indignantly, grabbing his arm and halting him in their tracks as students streamed past.

"Nothing," he said wearily, rubbing his face, "it's nothing."

"If it's nothing then stop taking it out on her," said Hermione peevishly, "she needs us right now, she needs _you_."

Harry looked at her a few seconds before turning on his heel.

"That's just the problem though," said Harry walking off, "she doesn't."

*

It was an hour later and Harry was regretting his harsh words. Hermione was right, she didn't need this. It wasn't her fault he'd been acting like an idiot for the past year, he shouldn't have taken it out on her.

He had more than enough time to apologise though and after they got back to Gryffindor Tower Harry and Ron went to scope out their bedroom for the next year. When they came back downstairs they found Catalina sitting in their usual place by the fire, staring at the flames dazedly as all around her people whispered. 

"Where's Hermione?" asked Ron, sitting down next to Catalina.

"Upstairs," she answered, still staring at the fire, "defending my honour."

"What?" asked Ron, with a look up the stairs.

"The girls…they don't particularly like the thought of sharing a room with me this year," she explained, looking unaffected by this news. 

Harry and Ron however were, and wasted no time in rushing up the stairs to Hermione and Catalina's dorm room. When they reached the open door they saw Hermione on one side of a four-poster, and Parvati and Lavender on the other side. 

It seemed they were played tug-of-war with the bed.

"Oh for goodness sake," said Hermione irritably, shoving the bed hard, "just leave it where it is!"

"No! If you like her so much, _you _can sleep by her," said Lavender, shoving back the bed ineffectively.

"I already am," said Hermione through gritted teeth, "what do you think she'd going to do?"

"We don't want to find out!" replied Parvati.

"Yeah, I'm not having her suddenly decide she wants to get rid of us!" cried Lavender looking distressed, "she didn't mind _stabbing _Harry! So she's not going to mind offing us is she?"

Harry and Ron shared a look of disbelief, before striding into the room. The other girls took one look at them and stood away from the bed, hands behind their backs, looking guilty.

"What is going on?" asked Ron, fixing them with a glare.

"Nothing," said Hermione, breathing deeply, "its all sorted now, _isn't _it girls?"

They muttered something incoherently, and Harry and Ron folded their arms and merely glared.

"Sorry we couldn't hear that," said Ron sweetly.

"Fine! _Fine_," huffed Lavender, traipsing back to her bed, "But I'm holding you _personally _responsible if something happens." 

"Nothing will," cried Hermione indignantly, "you're being stupid!"

"Oh are we?" asked Parvati, sitting next to Lavender, "we read the papers too you know, we know what she's capable of!"

Harry gave a laugh and walked over and sat down on his haunches in front of them. They looked more nervous at this than if he'd started yelling. He simply looked at them calmly and gave a friendly smile.

"Lavender, do you remember our classes in our fourth year with Professor Moody?" he asked her kindly, as she nodded fearfully, "and do you remember the class where he put the Imperio curse on us? And you imitated a squirrel? Do you remember that?"

She nodded again, and he turned to Parvati, "and do you remember that you began to sing your favourite song in reverse? You remember that?"

"Yeah," she said with a grimace, "I remember."

"Why did you do that?" asked Harry, and they shared a look, "because you looked really stupid, I have to tell you. We were laughing for ages."

"I couldn't help it!" said Lavender irritably, not liking being laughed at, "we didn't have any control."

"Exactly," said Harry with a meaningful nod of his head, "and what would you have done if Moody had told you to punch Parvati here, or kick Seamus, what would you have done then?"

"Well, I suppose I would have done," she said awkwardly.

"Well then," said Harry getting feet, "I think we've reached an understanding. If _I _don't blame her, and I've got most reason too, then you shouldn't either."

He turned to Hermione, "Night all."

She gave him an incredulous look, and he walked out - shortly followed by Ron.

"Nicely done," he said, looking impressed.

"Why thank you," said Harry with a slight grin.

"You've been practising that haven't you?" said Ron suddenly, "haven't you!"

"No," laughed Harry, "merely just wondered what I would say if someone bought it up."

They walked down into the common room, and Harry saw Catalina was still sat in her seat, cuddling her cat tightly. He gave Ron an awkward look, who merely grinned and held up his hands in a conciliatory manner.

"Alright, alright. I know when I'm not wanted."

"Thanks mate," he said with a grateful smile, watching Ron go up to the boys dorm before walking over to the couch. 

He stood in front of it for a few seconds, looking awkward as Catalina continued to stroke her cat, eyes completely unfocused. She suddenly realised she was being watched, and raised her eyes to Harry, who gave her a nervous grin. She didn't say anything.

"Can I sit down?" he asked in a would-be natural voice.

She gave a shrug, and he felt his stomach drop a few centimetres. She obviously wasn't very happy with him. He dropped into the couch next to her, and cringed at the awkward silence. The cat gave a huge stretch and stood up, pattering over to Harry's lap, where it sat down and curled up. 

"That's what you get for picking one that likes you," she said with a fake smile on her sad face.

"Have you thought of a name yet?" he asked her, stroking the cats head absentmindedly.

"No, I thought maybe No-Name…but you know, that's crap so…"

He gave a little laugh, which died in the frosty air. Harry decided enough with the small talk and that he ought to just bite the bullet. He shifted the cat of his lap, and turned in the seat until he was facing her. He took in her pale face, her strange black eyes that were full of sadness and had lost their sparkle she'd only just gained back.

And once again the realisation hit him, he suddenly realised what he was missing out on, what he'd never have. For some reason whenever he thought about that, it just made him so sad…

"I'm sorry," he said with a tight throat, "about before…I'm sorry."

She nodded silently. It wasn't exactly the reaction he wanted - she could have at least shouted, or cried or at least said something. 

"I am," he added, in case she needed further proof.

She merely nodded again and scooped down to pick up the un-named cat. He watched her silently wishing for just a moment they could forget everything, and meet each other as strangers. 

"So…we're good?" he asked her awkwardly.

She laughed at this for some reason and gave a dry smile, "we're good."

"Great," he said jumping up, meaning to make for his bed, "Good ni -"

"Why are you sad?" she blurted out suddenly.

He looked down at her for a few seconds, before giving a nervous laugh, "what do you mean?"

"You just…" she began, before shaking her head, "that's not the right way to say it…Lately…today, and at Diagon Alley…you…never mind."

He dropped back into the couch and looked at her, feeling slightly embarrassed. It wasn't like he was going to tell her the real reason. She gave a heavy sigh, and turned to him with a painful look in her eyes.

"I just wondered, if you decided you didn't like me anymore…"

"No!" he said fiercely, "Catalina, no! That's not the case at _all_, that would never be the case."

She blushed slightly and Harry felt he'd done it again, size nines firmly stuck in there now.

"Then what is it?" she asked quietly, "why are you sad?"

"Its nothing," he said giving her a warm smile, realising he'd forgotten how caring and considerate she always was about other people, even when she was the one in trouble, "it's just I've come to realise something, and I didn't much like it."

"What?" she asked curiously.

He opened his mouth to explain, then shut it. He couldn't exactly moan to her about his love life, or lack thereof, when she was the key character.

"That I'm a thick person," he said with a laugh, "that my life sucks."

She laughed out loud to this and he grinned appreciatively.

"Now I know that feeling," she said with a small grin, "this year definitely rate about a 10.0 on the crap-o-meter."

He laughed again, and leaned his head on the couch wearily. He enjoyed hearing her speak. Her accent was so bizarre. The closest he came to describing it was as Afrikaans. It sounded as if she'd learned to speak her native tongue from someone who couldn't speak it properly, like a mixture of a foreign person speaking it, and someone who understood it perfectly. It was becoming more Anglicised though, he could hear her English accent creeping in on certain words.

"Do you ever wonder," she asked, laying her head on the sofa too and looking at him, "that life is maybe just passing us by? That we seem to be completely missing out on what everyone keeps calling the 'best years of ours lives'?"

"All the time," he said heavily, "it's like we're just bypassing our teenage years. It seems to me that everyone else is living a normal life, while I'm just stuck here…"

"Yeah," she said quietly, looking into his eyes deeply, "when do you think it'll stop?"

"I don't," he told her with a grim smile, "I guess were just destined to have all the shit dumped on us."

They laughed, mainly at how completely rubbish their own lives felt, and at the fact that someone else felt exactly the same way. 

It hit him again that the one person that he knew understood him, and who he understood, would never be more than what they had right now. An awkward friendship which had already been through more that any other couple would have to go through in their lives. 

And this was the reason Harry was sad, and no amounts of friendly smiles or jokes could get rid of the fact.

*

"That's called spying you know," came Ron's voice in Hermione's ear.

She nearly jumped a foot in the air, and stuffed her hand in her mouth. Ron grinned and sat down on the stairwell next to her while she breathed heavily.

"Ron!" she hissed, "you scared me! Don't sneak up on people like that!"

"You're one to be talking about sneaks," he said playfully, nudging her shoulder, "what're you doing?"

"Ssh," she whispered, leaning across to him so her voice wouldn't travel, "Harry's apologising…"

"You can't sit and listen to them!" whispered back Ron indignantly, before creeping forward slightly, "what's happened so far?"

"He's said sorry, and she's not speaking to him…but she's accepted it," she whispered back, looking enthralled.

They both edged forward, keenly peering around the door to see Harry slump down in their seat again. They both looked awkward and embarrassed, and then heard Catalina ask him that question again. Harry vehemently denied it and Hermione sighed happily.

"They're made for each other," she said, with a slight sniffle.

"I don't think so," laughed Ron quietly, remembering what Harry said on the train, "he's on a fool's errand…Catalina doesn't even like him."

"What are you talking about?" asked Hermione, turning to face Ron with a frown on her lips, "she's _in love _with him!"

"She's not," said Ron uncertainly now, "Harry told me."

"What?" asked Hermione becoming deeply confused now, "How'd he figure that one out?"

"I don't know, he said something along the lines of 'I've come to realise it Ron…it's been in front of my face the whole time,' He was really beaten up about it...still is."

"But she _told _me…In Diagon Alley, she told me she loved him!" spluttered Hermione, staring at their friends again wide-eyed.

"Oh-oh," said Ron fearfully, "he's made a big mistake then…"

They watched the two of them staring at each other across the sofa intently, not even noticing when Ron sneezed from the dust Hermione had kicked up off the floor. She doubted they would have noticed a bomb going off.

"But look at them," she hissed, "its _so _obvious!"

"Not to Harry," said Ron, shaking his head in despair, "he's fully convinced himself now."

"Well you've got to un-convince him!" cried Hermione, before clamping a hand across her mouth.

The two figures on the sofa began to laugh loudly suddenly at something, and the two teenagers in the stairwell held their breath. They sniggered away until they were practically crying for breath, they looked so happy, so natural together. It was a crying shame nothing had been done about it already. 

Nothing much anyway.

"I don't think we should interfere in this," said Ron suddenly, "things always go wrong when we do stuff like this…I think we should maybe, you know, leave it up to them."

"But at the rate they're going, they'll sit around for the rest of their lives and do nothing about how they feel!" said Hermione.

"De ja vous," said Ron dryly.

Hermione ducked her head and gave an embarrassed laugh. She'd just exactly described the situation with her and Ron. 

"Maybe you're right," she said thoughtfully.

"About what?" teased Ron slightly.

"Harry and Catalina you idiot," she said with a grin, "maybe we should just let them figure it out for themselves…they seem to be doing a good job of it."

They watched their snickering friends for a few more seconds, before Hermione got up, "come on, we ought not be spying on them."

"Says the one who instigated it," laughed Ron, climbing to his feet.

"Shut it you," she said, pushing him playfully, "see you in the morning?"

"Yeah, good night Hermione," said Ron turning to go, as did she.

"Hermione?" asked Ron suddenly.

"Yeah?" she asked turning around.

Ron gave her an embarrassed grin, leaned forward and kissed her quickly on the lips. She was so shocked she didn't do anything for a few seconds, in the mean time Ron had turned around and scurried up the stairs. She stared at the opposite for a short while, before a huge grin spread across her features and she turned and literally skipped up to her dorm room - forgetting all about the plight of Catalina and Harry.

*

"Ok, if you're all knowing, _you_ choose a name," laughed Catalina downstairs as Hermione snuggled into her pillows, dreamy smile on her face. 

"Ok," said Harry sitting up with an excited look in his eyes, "how about…Doggie?"

"Doggie!" shrieked Catalina, "You can't call a cat Doggie!"

"Why not?" asked Harry, fighting hard against his laughter and failing miserably, "she looks like a Doggie! Acts like a dog! It's a perfect name!"

"I'm not calling my pet cat Doggie," said Catalina, smile tugging at her serious expression.

"Aw, why not?" pleaded Harry.

"Because she'll grow up with a major identity problem!" said Catalina as if she were speaking to a six-year old, "she'll start running around sniffing other cats bums and gnawing on bones!"

Harry really did have to collapse with laughter to this, and Catalina watched him smirking as he begged for air and respite, complaining loudly of stitch.

"Can't breathe!" he exclaimed hysterically, "I'm dying! Can't breathe!"

She giggled and began to fan his face with her hands until he finally calmed down.

"I really think you should call her Doggie now," he said semi-seriously, "it's a cool name - people will always want to know why she's called Doggie!"

"No!" she wheedled, "it's a rubbish name! You are no longer entrusted with naming privileges!"

"Aw come on Cat-lina!" he pleaded, "it's a good name!"

"No Har-rie," she said simply, "it's a crap name, cr-ap!"

"Fine," he huffed in mock-annoyance, "but if you call it some stupid girl name like Spot, or Patch or Scamp and I _will_ personally kill you."

"Oh, I'm so scared," she laughed, scooping up her cat, "well me and _Spot _here are tired, and are going to reclaim our territory."

"I'm not even going to _speak _to you now," he said, firmly gazing in the opposite.

"Fine," she said with a grin in her voice, "I'll just wish the air a good night then."

He purposely didn't say anything, but then became aware that she really was going to bed. She was half way up the stairs when his voice floated up the stairwell.

"The air says good night back!"

*

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AN/ Sniggers

I just had to put a bit of humour into this matey's, I was practically pulling my hair out with angst (although its still hidden in there) But I hope you like a bit of progression, not only plot-wise but Harry and Catalina wise to?

SO, Less than 2 days till book 5 hits the shops! Can you believe I have been banned from buying the book till Monday - after my last exams - so I don't stray from last minute revision a read it! It makes sense I GUESS, but I'm still heartbroken at thinking everyone else could be reading it while I'm revising!

Well, seven exams down, and only two to go! Hope you enjoyed! Heres thanks to all reviewers of chapters 13 and 14, as promised

Blood Red Sword - We'll have to see which team beats which! Wolves play Man U on the 27th of August, so if your still around, I shall stick my tongue out at you and be a particularly ungracious winner!

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Danny - Thanks for the review! I liked Catalina too much to kill her off in the last one, and she adds a bit of foreign mystery to the story I hope! I keep forgetting she's not English though (oops) so sometimes I have to remind myself.

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David M./ Potter - Harry and Catalina in love without Angst? Are you crazy? Lol. Don't worry, it will happen, but I'm afraid your right about them being in an angsty situation, it tends to reflect on their behavior. I'm trying to make it as realistic as possible (a much as you can be in a world of broomsticks and parseltongue), and as such I think this is the best way for them to act…sorry!

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Dementorchic - Hehehe, glad you liked! And don't worry, Ron and Hermione will be coming along shortly! And Harry and Catalina, although (surprise, surprise) a bit slower I think!

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Eminus - Wow, all hail to the dedicated reader whose bothered to read through all of my rubbish! Yes I'm in college in England, for about 2 more days actually and then I'm FINISHED! As I said before, only two exams to go now, but revisions getting harder and harder to do, writing and rewarding is so much more appealing, and of course, so is book 5. I take it from your sign in name you feel the same?

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Mad Ant - I hope you like the way I diverged away from just Harry lately - thanks for the prompt. I will be doing it a lot more now they're all at Hogwarts together, Thanks for the review!

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Pamela Potter 24 - I know how it feels to be trawling through the archives forever look for a non-slash, nice, long, believable fic. And I can't believe you think mines one of them! I'm glad you like Catalina, most people think she's a bit nasty or something I think - they don't like to see nice other characters I think! And I'm really glad you've noticed my attempts to develop her from the prequel, where she was a bit unrealistic I think. Thanks for the review, hope you liked this chapter!

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Precious girl - Thanks AGAIN! I'm keeping quiet on the author of the letters, but hopefully I'll try and do a bit of JKR-style clues and hint dropping a long the way, so this just doesn't read as boring. Thanks for reminding me about the stone Harry's got for seeing into the future…I PROMISE it is coming up…it's just a bit hard to work in at the moment. Plus it only shows the future up to an hour ahead - so it's a bit useless sometimes!

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Remus Lupin - Don't worry about the delay! Its nice to know your keeping up with it! I do usually post on Mondays, but sometimes I have too much revision and have to wait for a few days (like today) or other times I'm too eager to get it out so it comes out early. So I'm afraid I truly am being totally random. Excellent Site by the way!

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Riser155 - Catalina is part of the Order now, she'll get her robes and meet with some of the members shortly…

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Xava - Hello to the new reader! Yes things are / will be romantic between Harry and Catalina - I'll try and speed things up for you, but these things take time!

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P.S. Readers from Britain, Thursday the 5th, 7.30 on BBC2. JKR is being interviewed on a half-hour long program on the books! MUST TUNE IN!


	16. Cheveux de Gingembre

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AN/ Want the good news or the bad news first? Good news is NEW CHAPTER! Sorry it's taken so long, but I've been on an archaeology dig for three weeks in the middle of the moors with no electricity and especially no internet access!

Bad news is, tomorrow I depart for a holiday in France with my mate, for THREE WEEKS. So, no more updates until the 10th/11th of August! Sorry people.

But better news, this chapters 10 pages long, size 10 font, so that's at least something, right she asks worriedly

But I would like everyone to enjoy the summer holidays and the sun (or snow depending on which hemisphere your in!)

~*~*~ Chapter Fifteen ~*~*~

Cheveux de Gingembre

The next morning Harry really didn't feel like getting up. It had been a late night, his large bed was comfy and the air outside was far too cold to even _think _about venturing into. It was the first lie-in he'd had in almost a month, what with Lu Tze's lessons and he was savouring this new, bizarre experience. Ron kept throwing pillows at him however, until he begrudgingly opened his eyes.

"Good morning sleepyhead," came Ron cheerful morning-voice.

"Is it?" grumbled Harry, drawing the covers over his chin.

"Come on, time to get up," said Ron, tugging the covers off the bottom of his bed.

"No! Cold!" yelled Harry at the sudden invasion of icy air, and quickly summoning his blanket back onto the bed. 

Ron muttered something suspiciously sounding like 'grouch' and Harry savoured a last minute in the snug warmth of his bed before Ron attacked him again.

"Wake up now!" he yelled.

"I can wake up all day!" groaned Harry, sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. 

Ron looked at him despairingly for a few moments, before suddenly brightening up, "that was a good comeback."

"Thanks," laughed Harry dryly, "I try."

Twenty minutes later they were traipsing down to the common room, finding Catalina and Hermione whispering in low voices about something. As soon as they caught sight of the approaching boys they instantly shut up and gave them sweet smiles.

"What are you two whispering about?" asked Harry, leaning on the back of their sofa.

"Nothing," snickered Hermione, looking over to Ron with a raised eyebrow who instantly went red for some reason.

"All set to go?" asked Harry after a few seconds.

"Sure," said Hermione, jumping to her feet, bag at the ready.

She pushed open the portrait and climbed through with Ron, leaving Harry and Catalina to follow. Harry turned to her and noticed suddenly how pale she looked, with a slight yellow tinge to her skin reminiscent of her days in St. Mungo's.

"Are you feeling ok?" he asked her as they walked down the cold corridor.

"Can' talk. Gonna be sick."

"Do you need to go and visit Pomfrey?"

She nodded and pulled out a small vile that had only the dregs of a purple potion swilling around the bottom. Harry knew she had potions to keep her going, so he wasn't too bothered about this, so it was with a short detour to the Hospital Wing that morning that they made their way to breakfast.

"Feeling nauseous?" asked Madam Pomfrey, peering into Catalina's eyes intently.

"A little."

"Any headaches?"

"A small one.

"Double vision?"

"Nope."

"Right, looks like just a top up of your prescription," said Pomfrey, handing her over a new bottle.

"Thanks," said Catalina, knocking it back with a grimace.

She seemed to instantly perk up and hopped down off the bed, walking over to Harry with a grateful smile, "Piece of cake."

They entered the Great Hall to find it half full and the four of them walked over to the table and sat down in their seats. Again Harry noticed the whisperings and the curious/fearful looks being shot in Catalina's direction, but he had honestly come to realise they were bothering him more than her. She had changed a lot since he'd first seen her during the summer, he'd really thought she would break apart at the merest mention of anything to do with last year.

"New timetables," said Hermione passing them across to everyone.

Harry looked down and realised with a lurch of the stomach they had potions first! How evil must be the teachers to give it first thing on a Monday morning? 

"Ugg, potions now," groaned Ron along the same lines.

"There must be like Geneva Convention rules against this sort of thing," said Hermione, looking disgruntled at her timetable as well.

"Huh?" asked Ron and Catalina in unison.

"Muggle thing," explained Harry.

"Oh well," said Catalina with a shrug, "it could be worse, it could be a double."

"Says you," muttered Ron, "you're _brilliant_ at potions."

She shrugged helplessly and they began to eat their breakfast, occasionally talking about odd topics of conversation. Suddenly somebody ran over to the table, bumping into the seat and squiggling herself down between Ron and Hermione, who looked at the intruder with alarm.

"Gin!" whined Ron, "where's the fire?"

"Sorry…overslept…ran…stitch," gasped the girl, breathing deeply.

Everyone grinned at Ginny, who continued to breathe long slow breaths until she could almost speak normally. 

"Move over," said Ron irritably, "you don't have to sit in our laps!"

"Sorry," said Ginny, shooting Hermione a friendly smile, "must remember that for further social occasions, note to self: Never sit in peoples laps…right, got it, thanks bro."

Ron merely rolled his eyes and they continued to eat, trying to put off the inevitable for just those few minutes longer.

"Looking forward to the Quidditch season?" Harry asked Ginny as the owls circled above, depositing parcels and letters for the masses.

"Too right!" she said eagerly, "I saw this absolutely awesome move in the latest magazine right, called the starfish and stick…"

"The one where you hang from the broom with only one foot and hand holding on?" asked Catalina, looking up in interest.

"Yeah…" said Ginny with a slight frown, before turning back to the others, "anyway, I thought Seamus could maybe try it out."

"Good idea," said Ron thoughtfully, not noticing anything odd with Ginny's behaviour, "We should have got Fred and George to teach the Mark and Daniel there tricks before they left."

"Yeah well, we had a bit more to think about then than Quidditch," sighed Harry.

There was a slight silence. Everyone seemed to be remembering what had happened at the end of last year, the confusion, the hospitalities, fatalities, missing persons, imprisonment's…The conversation soon picked up and Ginny was up again, dashing over to the Ravenclaw table where she met a tall brown haired boy.

"Honestly, she's got enough energy to light a city," laughed Hermione, watching Ginny running out of the Great Hall, "on a Monday morning as well."

"It's inhuman," agreed Ron sagely, "but then again, I came to believe a long time ago she's not of this world."

"Ron, don't be mean about your sister!" scolded Hermione.

"What? She's is weird isn't she Harry! You agree with me here right?" pleaded Ron, noticing the challenging look in Hermione's eyes.

"I wouldn't know," said Harry neutrally, "I've never really noticed."

"Well, believe me," said Ron with a vigorous nod of the head, "I've lived with her for 15 bloody years too long."

Hermione scowled but soon they were gathering their bag together and heading out of the Hall. It was time for the most unpleasant lesson of Harry's timetable - Potions with the Slytherin's.

It went as bad as Harry could have expected it too, he should have known better than to think the Slytherin's would let them off. They obviously had too good a reason to constantly tease Catalina to let it pass by, and were taking every opportunity to snipe at her, or whisper a comment when Snape wasn't looking. 

She was taking as good as he expected she would, ignoring it and not retaliating, but he could see her getting more run down, feel her getting more depressed. Ron, Hermione and Harry kept leaping to her defence, but the situation wasn't much helped by the fact none of the other Gryffindor's were doing anything about it. They seemed just as awkward or fearful of her as the Slytherin's were, despite Harry's talk with the sixth year girls last night. In fact he was sure he heard Seamus's laugh adding to the noise when a Slytherin girl knocked passed her roughly. 

As well as she seemed to be managing, Harry was hard pushed to control his own temper, he was already sick and tired of the whispering and pointing and snide comments. If Malfoy didn't shut up he would march over right that second and upturn that cauldron over his head. Three times already Harry had spilled his essence of Rosewater as he hands shook with anger and he was desperate to practise a bit of his wandless magic on the ferret boy.

They were trying to concoct a sleeping potion and Harry and Ron were working together, sharing a table with Catalina and Hermione who were also partners. However, seeing as they were positioned right by the stone washbasin, there was a constant stream of people past their table - all with their own helpful little comments. 

"Don't listen to them," Harry told her quietly, as he pulled the chopping boards towards them, "just ignore them…"

He looked up to see Malfoy walking towards them, empty flask in hand, with an evil smirk on his face. He took one look at the task Harry and Catalina were about to start and his grin widened. Harry glared threateningly at the boy, daring him to say something yet hoping Catalina wasn't paying any attention. 

"I'd keep the sharp instruments away from her if I was you," said Malfoy quietly as he walked past them, "if her track record is anything to go by."

Catalina dropped the small knife she was using to onto the table, but it only caught the edge and fell to the stone floor with a resounding clatter. She gripped the side of the table with white knuckles and Harry felt a horrible lurch of fear and shame from her. Most of the dungeon seemed to turn and look at her silently before she bent down and picked it up slowly, face drained of all colour. Harry could see her gripping the handle tight, so much so her knuckles were white and her hand was shaking.

"Catalina," asked Hermione suddenly, breaking the heavy silence, "can you stir this for a second while I go and fetch some more roots?"

She nodded hastily, and placed the knife on the table with shaking hands, practically apparating in front of the cauldron. 

"Have you still got the scar Potter?" whispered Malfoy maliciously, as Catalina jerkily stirred the potion.

Harry turned to Malfoy, who was grinning broadly at her reaction, ready to hex him nine ways to Sunday. He fingertips were already crackling with magic as he strode towards him menacingly. 

"Malfoy," cut in Snape's voice suddenly, "get back to your table."

Harry couldn't help but feel disappointed he couldn't get his revenge, and settled for merely glaring as the boy walked away. But he did manage to get some sense of satisfaction when Malfoy's set of vials mysteriously rolled off the table and smashed over the floor, causing Snape to roar in frustration at his usually favourite student. Harry flicked his fingers slightly under the table, and gave Ron a sly smile who was grinning broadly at Malfoy's telling off. 

Hermione picked up Catalina's knife and began to chop away as if nothing was really wrong, as Catalina blinked back the tears, half out of unhappiness, half out of frustration that she was letting petty things like that get to her. 

Thankfully the end of class was announced soon after and the Gryffindor's hastily packed away their things, Catalina couldn't wait to get out of the stifling, closed-off classroom, it was making her feel claustrophobic.

"Potter, Firelight, Granger and Weasley," barked Snape at the end of the class, "stay behind!"

They gave each other incredulous looks. They had hoped they'd got away with enough Snape for one day, and they all guiltily racked their brains for a reason he should hold them back.

As soon as all the students had left the room, Snape walked over and closed the door before casting a silencing charm over the room. The four were lined up in front of his desk looking a right odd bunch. Catalina with her sickly tinge, Ron with his worn, hand-me-down robes, Hermione with her population of books in her arms, and Harry looking fearful and flinching at the expected barrage.

"So this is who the country is sending to its defence?" he asked sourly, before shaking his head in genuine disbelief, "Merlin help us all."

They all shared worried glances, but said nothing. Snape however, hadn't expected them to reply and merely set about fetching a set of keys from his drawer. He stood up and walked over to the cupboard behind him, setting to work on the numerous charms and locks on it, before swinging it open.

He pulled out four small wooden boxes and set them down on the table, giving them all a last despairing look.

"The headmaster has instructed me to equip you with a number of potions for your little…trip…abroad," he began with a sour look at them all, "as you will no doubt understand, I have better things to do with my time than stand around making potions for you. Therefore, you will come to the dungeon twice a week to concoct your own."

He glared at them all, as if daring them to contradict what he'd just said, but they all stared back impassively. His lip curled into a sneer. Potter and Weasley always did have problems controlling their emotions, but they seemed to be mastering them well this year. His gaze slid from the two boys to the two girls. One who never knew when to sensibly hold her tongue, and the other who didn't exercise hers much at all.

One thing Snape could say though, was the Catalina Firelight was a spit of her father. The same eyes, same hair, same mannerisms. He cast his mind back to his meeting with the man last year - he remembered how it had shocked him more than he thought it might have shocked her. Firelight had always been portrayed as the head of the light side, even amongst most Death Eaters.

"Tuesday and Thursday nights, from 8 till 10," he added, hoping maybe this would get a reaction.

Not a flicker. 

Oh well, that art of concealment would be useful in their task if nothing else.

"Professor?" asked Hermione in a slightly nervous voice, "what kind of potions will we be making? Just so we can study them before hand…"

Snape fought the urge to roll his eyes at the girl. She was always so…so, _smart_. Snape constantly swiped at her because she was so eager, always trying to prove herself…so much like him when he started Hogwarts. He had absolutely worshipped his Potions Master, Professor Lichtenstein, he had always done his utmost best to try and beat the professor, teach him something new, earn points.

"Mainly concealment potions," he said, leaning back in his chair, "They'll be complex, so I'm not expecting you to do it right. Things such as camouflage, you've done that already, invisibility, though I doubt you'll need it and the Polyjuice Potion, though I expect you'll have some difficulty with that…"

Strange, thought Snape suddenly. That certainly did get a flicker. Three of them suddenly looked on with an incredible amount of forced innocence…

"If you have no further questions you may leave now, he said, pausing to see if they did before adding, "Firelight, stay behind a moment."

He watched them all file down and gather their things together, before she walked back up to the desk nervously. Snape frowned deeply when he saw Potter following her, standing next to her almost protectively.

"I believe I asked for Firelight only," said Snape with a sneer at the son of his enemy.

"Oh, right," he said, backing away slowly, "I'll wait for you outside Catalina?"

"No go on ahead," she said in a weak voice, "tell McGonagall I'll be a few moments…"

Snape glared at Potter all the way to the door, which he shut tightly. Catalina visibly flinched at the sound of the door slamming shut and squeezed her eyes together in panic. He turned his gaze on the young girl, who was looking intensely nervous, pale and sickly all at once. Snape noted how she seemed to be fighting the urge to run away, though he merely put this behaviour down to the girls' dislike of him.

"Now, St Mungo's have been in contact with me, in regards to your daily potion," began Snape, picking up the letter off his desk and re-reading it, "and I just need to ask you a few questions before I cook up your new batch."

"Right…" said the girl, in a strangled voice.

Snape felt a feeling of almost compassion for the girl. She had been through so much, proven herself in so many ways, yet here she was. In as much as Snape felt he could like a student of Gryffindor, he had long ago decided that Catalina Firelight deserved a large amount of respect. 

"Lets begin shall we?" he asked in clipped tones, hoping to sound as uncaring as possible, "Now your current potion, does it have any side-effects?"

"Yes…it makes me feel sick," she said in a hoarse voice, eyes darting towards the door.

"Less unicorn hair then I feel," he muttered to himself before addressing her again, "How long do you usually feel the effects?"

"I usually need another one the next morning…" she said, "I can't really get out of bed without it."

"Is that due to the physical weariness of the body, or the feeling and thoughts in your head?" he asked, peering at the prescribed ingredient list again.

"Both," she said awkwardly.

"Right, well I'll add more Einkorn for the depression and more Emmer root for the weariness…that should do the trick."

"Right…" she said, hopping anxiously from foot to foot.

"Yes, it'll be ready for you by Wednesday morning at the earliest," said Snape, turning away and rooting around in his desk for an ink well.

She nodded, chest heaving and bent down to pick her bags up quickly, dropping her things in her panic and haste to get away from the scene.

"By the way," asked Snape suddenly, his face blank and impassive, "how is your arm healing."

He watched as her arm jerked to cover the crook of one elbow, in a motion that Snape himself had performed many times. She was violently shaking now and he regretted ever saying anything about it. He shuffled some notes, trying to look unconcerned and as if nothing was amiss, before glancing at her again.

"If you feel anything at all, even the slightest twinge," he said to her in a cautioned tones, "tell someone _immediately_, do you understand me?"

"Yes Professor," she gasped, hugging her bag to her tight.

He spun around in his chair to hide the look of pity on his face. He couldn't understand why the Death Eaters had forced the mark on her. What would it achieve? If she could not be controlled without the use of Imperious, it must have been obvious that she would not join them.

Then the idea came to him out of nowhere, maybe the idea had never been to turn her at all. Maybe it had been to permanently scar her, make her an outsider, make sure she could never be accepted again.

Because that's what the Dark Mark did to those who wore them, offered a life sentence to the bearer. He sighed deeply, Charles Firelight must have been some character, to be able to do that to his only daughter and heir. 

"Very well…You may go," he called over his shoulder, hearing the door bang shut before he'd even finished his sentence.

*

Catalina came in only ten minutes late, and found a seat at the back of the classroom, despite the fact Harry had saved her one in between him and Hermione. He got the feeling she was either worried about Malfoy said before, or hadn't enjoyed her conversation with Snape, because when he listened he could feel the unhappiness coming off her. 

He turned back to his own work, cursing himself for worrying so much as usual. He had promised to lighten up a bit. It was his new mantra, _lighten up, leave her alone, lighten up_…He couldn't help it though, it made him sick to see her being treated like she was by the people that used to be her friends. He shook away the thoughts, angrily realising he was still thinking about her. 

Harry noticed that McGonagall kept giving the four of them more looks than she usually did. She kept picking on them for answering questions - it was as if she was unconsciously measuring them up to the tasks ahead.

Harry hoped he was doing well in her eyes. 

They were staring a new form of transfiguration this year, which would carry them through to their NEWT's at the end of the seventh year - human transfiguration. It seemed this year it was a course heavily based on theory, and they spent the rest of the long lesson sat at their desks making notes. 

"You going to check out the new open common room this evening?" Ron asked Harry as they copied from their textbooks.

"Yeah, why not?" asked Harry, scrutinising at some of the diagrams on the page, "I bet your dad wished he was here now, to see all the muggle technology…"

"Yeah, I'll write to him when I've seen what the big mystery about the place is," said Ron with a grin, "he'll love it."

"What do you reckons in there then?" asked Harry.

"Well, Dean reckons it's a…what's it called again? A box…with the moving pictures in?"

"Television?" supplied Harry.

"Yeah, one of them. He says we can all go down and watch his football team play now!" said Ron excitedly, "isn't that right Dean?"

"What's this?" asked the boy in the row in the front of them, shifting around in his sat as McGonagall glared at him.

"Your football team, we can watch it on the thingy…television, right?"

"Oh yeah mate!" said Dean excitedly, "Match of the Day's on every night at 10.30! And you see what a _real _sport it made out of."

"Hey!" said Ron indignantly, "it's no way near as good as Quidditch!"

"And you'd know would you?" countered Dean, "I bet you've never even _seen _a football!"

"I'll have you know that I've played football before," said Ron importantly, "isn't that right Harry?"

"Oh yeah," nodded Harry firmly, "badly granted, but he still played it."

"I was not bad!" said Ron indignantly, "it was Hermione's fault-"

"Wait, Hermione played?" asked Seamus, turning around in his seat now, looking at them in confusion.

"Yeah, she was Keeper," said Ron proudly.

"Goalkeeper," corrected Dean unconsciously, "No way! Was she any good?"

"NO!" laughed Ron and Harry unison.

"She kept ducking when the ball came near," explained Harry as Hermione turned to them all and glared.

"I did not _duck_," she replied, nose in the air, "I simply dodged the more vicious projectile missiles you called kicks…just because you guys have had your brains beaten out of your head, doesn't mean _I_ want to!"

All the boys stared at Hermione with incomprehension while McGonagall gave them a fierce look. They began to copy notes again, just for the look of things, trying to contain their sniggers. 

"So what position did you play Ron?" asked Dean as McGonagall walked to the front of the class again.

"Chaser," he said proudly.

"Striker," corrected Dean again, "score many goals?"

"Three," said Ron with a smug grin, as Hermione rolled her eyes and got back on with her work. 

"But what was the final score?" asked Seamus, watching Harry who was laughing quietly to himself.

"Thirteenthree," mumbled Ron, before turning back to his work.

"Sorry, what was that?" asked Dean innocently, hand at ear.

"Thirteen - three," said Harry with a grim smile, "told you we were bad."

The boys all laughed and McGonagall gave them another look, as the lowered their voices slightly. 

"You weren't too bad Harry," said Ron loyally, "just Princess over there couldn't stop the others scoring."

"I've had how many years of PE classes at school to practise," laughed Harry, trying to stop Hermione answering back angrily, "You've got the makings of a player anyway, you only need a bit of practise."

"I tell you what," said Dean suddenly, "why don't we have a game one time?"

Ron looked up excitedly, and this caught the attention of Seamus as well, who grinned widely. 

"You can show me your skills Ron," laughed Dean, "we'll get some Ravenclaw's in, or Hufflepuff's or something…we can show you a proper game then!"

"You're on," said Ron appreciatively, "Harry?"

"Definitely."

"Could you please get on with your work?" asked McGonagall's voice, cutting through their discussion suddenly, "the classroom is a place of study, save your conversations for Lunch."

They all grudgingly bent over their parchments and Harry grinned at the thought of a football match on the Hogwarts grounds, it would be good to have a sport that everyone could play, without specialist equipment like bludgers and brooms and forty-foot high goalposts. He flipped over his page, and flicked his face with the tip of his quill as he thought. He looked outside, desperately wanting to be out there now in the last few weeks of weak sunshine before winter set it.

He craned his neck slightly to see Catalina, sitting at the back on her own and frowned suddenly. He didn't like to see her alienating herself, or everyone else alienating her - the Gryffindor's seemed perfectly content to pretend she wasn't with them. 

Harry didn't understand this at all, sure when she was first 'captured' she got a hell of a lot of bad press, but after the trial, everyone had felt so sorry for her. The stories they ran and the eye witness accounts of the trial always painted her in such a brave, good way. So why all of a sudden did everyone suddenly decide they didn't like Catalina Firelight anymore?

Harry's only explanation was that her father was the cause. They didn't like the thought that he was still running around free, and that his daughter, with her chequered past, was free as well. It was if she had to pay for the sins of her father, because he wasn't doing it himself.

"Right, everyone pack away," came McGonagall's voice, breaking him from his thoughts, "I want full and complete notes of Chapter One of your textbook finished for next lesson!"

Harry looked down at his own notes in dismay, he'd managed to only get through the first two of the 15 page chapter. He packed up his stuff with a sigh, looked like more homework for him to do. He walked over to Catalina's table to find her still staring at her notes, looking as if she was a million miles away. Harry waved a hand in front of her eyes and she gave a huge jump, staring at his happily smiling face.

"Ready for lunch?" he asked her, as she packed away her things quickly.

She nodded wordlessly as Hermione and Ron joined the table as Harry looked down at her notes she was packing away. There was only two lines of her tiny, spiked script and the rest of the page was taken up with aimless doodles of lines and spirals - obviously she'd had as much luck as Harry at concentrating.

"What did Snape want?" asked Ron as she stood up and shouldered her bag. 

"Nothing," she shrugged avoiding their eyes, "a potion he wants to brew for me."

"Oh, I wouldn't trust _anything _Snape offered me in a vial," said Ron with a frown.

"What does it do?" asked Hermione curiously.

"Permanently alters your appearance so no one will ever recognise you again," she said simply.

They stared at her open-mouthed for a few minutes.

"_Kidding_," she said rolling her eyes, "_Jes-us_."

Everyone sighed with relief and Harry raised an eyebrow at her as they walked out of the class.

"I like the sound of that potion," he said with a grin.

"Me too," she said, angrily glaring at the groups of girls who had just hissed loudly as she walked past.

She carried on walking, head held high, and Harry turned around and walked backwards, hoping to memorise their faces. However the crowds closed in and the group of girls were lost.

Ron and Hermione led the way ahead, and she and Harry followed, all heading towards the Great Hall in the crowds of people. He slowed down for her, watching her flinch in the crush as people jostled her about, before walking along side her.

"You're thinking about what Malfoy said aren't you?" he asked her as they emerged from the throngs of people into a rarely used short cut.

"How come you never get any points in divination?" she asked with a crooked smile, "you always seem to know what's going on."

"I prefer to keep my talent under wraps," he joked. "But seriously, don't ok? He's not worth it…"

She gave a shrug which left Harry none the wiser and he gave her a sideways look. She stared back at him innocently.

"Right, that's enough," said Harry suddenly, "do you mind if I just do something?"

She gave him a wide-eyed look, and shrugged self-consciously, and he pulled out his wand. He noticed the flicker of fear in her eyes, and the way that she took a mini step back.

"_Oculus feles_," he whispered.

There was a flash of blue light, which settled in Catalina's eyes and began to fade. He leaned forward and looked at her eyes intently, they were now the dark amber colour he'd come to know and recognise, with the small almost crescent shaped cat's pupils.

She held her breath for some reason and he leant forward again. His glittering green eyes flicked from one of her eyes to the other, studying each them intently, for what, she didn't know. What she did know however, was the way that her heart had sped up faster and she suddenly became side-tracked by the colour of _his _eyes…

"I've been wanting to do that for ages," he said with a smile, standing back now.

"Yeah, me too…" she heard herself say as she tried to reconnect her brain and her mouth. 

"Off to lunch we go then," he said happily, as if nothing was amiss.

"Yes…lunch," she said, before shaking her head, "right, er, lead the way."

They made the short trek to the Great Hall, and walked in to see almost everyone else sat down. Harry frowned at the number of people that surreptitiously looked over at them enter, and glared at the ones who openly swivelled in their seats. Catalina gave a heavy sigh.

"Step right up, step right up," she whispered to him with a crooked grin, "come see the amazing freak…"

Harry gave a small laugh, shaking his head with wonder. He couldn't believe she could still laugh about it all, it would run him into the ground if everyone thought he was a murderer come Death Eater. They walked over to the table and slid into their seats and Hermione gave them a bright smile.

"Now there's a sight for sore eyes," she said, motioning with her fork towards Catalina, "I was wondering if you were going to change them back."

"Don't blame me," she said, taking a small sip of her drink, "it's _his _fault."

"Should have known," said Ron dryly as Harry blushed. 

He busied himself picking at his dinner and listened with interest as Hermione demonstrated her ability to speak French to Catalina - who'd spent some time in the country, surprise, surprise. They were babbling away, Catalina in a fluent French accent, and Hermione haltingly, but with some skill. Harry couldn't understand how they knew what to say.

"Aimez-vous le garcon de cheveux de gingembre?" asked Catalina suddenly, innocently raising her eyebrow.

Harry watched with interest as Hermione processed the translation, before laughing loudly.

"Oui!" she said with a beaming smile.

"La femme fou!" said Catalina, tapping her head with amusement.

Harry felt very left out at their secret jokes and looked to Ron for help, who seemed to be just as lost as he was, even more so as he'd _never _done French, whereas Harry had at least a years lessons. Hermione said something to Catalina who suddenly slipped into a different language as she spoke, and Hermione listened to her interestedly. This one sounded more…harsh. Whereas languages such as French and Spanish sounded soft and pleasant, this one sounded raspy and slightly guttural.

"What was that then?" asked Hermione when she'd finished her sentence. 

"Polish," she said simply, taking another drink and looking over the rim of the glass at Harry. 

"Say something else," said Ron, listening closely.

"Dzien Dobry, milo mi cie, pana pania poznac," said Catalina before ducking her head in embarrassment, "I've only just started learning so it's a little basic, and a load of rubbish probably."

"Sounds good to me," said Harry appreciatively, "you'll have to teach me some."

She gave him a surprised look and he felt a lurch around his stomach that had nothing to do with portkeys or nerves. 

"Alright then," she said with a bashful smile, "you're on."

"Well," said Hermione, "I don't know. You must know more languages than anyone I know!"

"I don't know _that _many," she said, brushing off Hermione's compliment.

"You do!" she argued, "I bet I could name ten that _I_ know about."

"Go on then," challenged Ron.

"English, French, Chinese, Afrikaans, Russian," she began, reeling them off at lightening speed, "Spanish, Portuguese, _Polish_, German…"

"That's only nine," laughed Catalina, "and I _can't _speak Polish."

"There must be another one…" said Hermione racking her brains, "oh yeah! Parseltongue."

Catalina choked on her drink.

"What?" she gasped.

"Parseltongue," she said, looking slightly thrown off track.

"I can't!"

"You can…" said Hermione, looking worried at her and Harry's reaction, "we've heard you…"

"What?! No!" cried Catalina, feeling extremely distressed, "I can't!"

Hermione shared a guilty look with Ron, and Catalina turned and looked at Harry with a shocked, pale face. He blinked back at her, too shocked to say anything.

"I can't!"

*

Harry sat across from Catalina, staring at her blankly. It was dark outside, the Common Room was empty, everyone was down in the new open for all Common Room seeing what all the fuss was about. She was biting her thumb nail, staring back him. It wasn't as if they were actually looking at each other, rather just staring off into the distance in a direction that just happened to be towards each other.

"Say something in it then," he said, breaking the silence. 

"I can't," she said fiercely, "I can't speak Parseltongue!"

Harry looked at her critically. He was sure she hadn't known, she reacted way too much to have known, but he wasn't about to accuse her of lying.

"I can't," she repeated desperately, "I know I can't! I would have _known_ if I could."

"I didn't know," he said quietly, "I only found out when I came face to face with a snake…in a zoo one time."

She shook her head and placed a hand on her forehead.

"I don't want too…" she whispered in a frightened voice.

Ah, thought Harry, now they were getting down to the real reason. She wasn't surprised that she could speak it anymore, she was just _upset_.

"It's not a bad thing," he said slightly awkwardly, "_you _told me that…last year."

"It is for me!" she cried desperately.

"Why?" he asked exasperatedly, "why exactly!"

She jumped out of her seat and paced in front of the couch, fighting back the tears.

"Harry, everyone already thinks I'm evil!" she said becoming more and more upset, "they're all talking behind my back, sniping at me, saying horrible things…they all want proof! Well here's their proof!!"

"Listen, _calm down _Catalina," said Harry worriedly, "they don't have to know ok…"

"But they'll find out," she said worriedly, "I know they will, they always do! And what are they gonna do then huh?"

"Nothing," said Harry fiercely, "they'll do nothing because we'll tell them to do nothing…now just, just _sit down_ and relax for Gods sake, before you give yourself a coronary."

She looked at him in surprise before slumping down into her seat. She glared moodily at the floor for a while.

"We should have known," said Harry, looking off into the distance, "it was a two way thing…I'm a Magus, makes sense that you'd be a Parseltongue."

"I'm not," she said half-heartedly, looking like she'd given up on being angry now. 

"Prove it then…" he said with a slight smile, pulling out his wand, "_Serpensortia_."

A black snake slithered onto the floor and Harry leant forward.

"Can you understand me?" he asked it, not sure if even he was speaking in Parseltongue.

The snake wove its head slightly and Harry couldn't tell if this was a yes or no, "go around the couch once."

The snake set off towards the sofa Catalina was sitting on, and disappeared behind it, reappearing a few seconds later. Harry looked over to Catalina.

"Could you understand me?" he asked her.

"No," she said defiantly, and Harry could feel the deception from here.

"You could couldn't you!" he said with a laugh, "don't lie!"

"Well…maybe _you _were speaking English," she said helplessly, "maybe the snake just felt like going around the sofa…"

"Ok," said Harry grinning, "you try."

She gave him the briefest smiles, and looked down to the snake with disdain. 

"Can you understand me?" she asked it, looking awkward and embarrassed. 

"Well I can," supplied Harry unhelpfully.

"But what language are you understanding me in?" she asked him. 

"Who knows?" asked Harry with shrug, "tell it to do something…"

"Oh I don't know," she said impatiently, "chase your tail."

If any further proof was needed, it came in the form of a snake, spinning in circles on the floor. Catalina looked disappointed, and Harry laughed, the look on her face was just too funny. After a few seconds she looked up to him and cracked a grin. The situation was too comical. Soon they were both laughing loudly, and that was how Ron and Hermione found them a few minutes later, sprawled on their respective sofa's, clutching their stomachs.

"What's so funny?" asked Ron nervously, both of them had been slightly worried by the two's previous reaction to their news.

"Nothing," said Harry with a wave of his hand as she brushed a tear from her eye.

"I see you're not too…worried, about what we told you," said Hermione hopefully.

"Nope," said Harry, pointing to the snake, "we've been practising."

They eventually stopped laughing, and Harry looked at the snake, which was curled up on the floor now. He looked at Catalina and said something, something in parseltongue. To which Catalina replied, also in the other language.

"Whoa, whoa, time-out," said Ron suddenly holding up his hands, "since when can you speak it without talking to a snake?"

"I can't," said Harry blankly.

"You just did!" said Ron.

"I didn't, I told her we'd been busted," he said, laughing at Ron, "in _English_."

"Oh no you didn't," said Hermione, "you _both _just spoke Parseltongue…without even including the snake!"

"Did we?" asked Harry looking troubled.

"How cool!" said Catalina suddenly, "our own secret language!"

Harry gave a grin, and rubbed his hands excitedly, "think of the possibilities!"

Hermione and Ron rolled their eyes and sat down with the two, forgetting all about their new abilities. They decided to fill them in on the new Common Room instead. 

Catalina's cat sprang onto her lap, and she began to stroke its fur as Ron explained all about the 'moving-picture box' and the WWN they had in there, and some board games and things. Harry nodded thoughtfully and promised he'd visit tomorrow. Hermione was pulling out her homework, when the cat jumped up onto her lap.

"Hello there," she cooed, "who's a pretty cat?"

"Nicer than Crookshanks," said Ron teasingly.

"I'll have you know Crookshanks is nicer than Catalina's cat!" she said indignantly, "No offence…but at least mine _tries _to move, this ones so lazy! All it does is sleep and eat!"

"Isn't that what all cats do?" asked Harry, stirring up more trouble.

Hermione rolled her eyes and continued to stroke the black cat, which had already fallen asleep in her lap. 

"Have you decided on a name for her yet?" asked Hermione suddenly. 

"Yes," said Harry at the same time Catalina said, "No."

Hermione raised a curious eyebrow, and Catalina gave Harry a meaningful look, "_No_, I haven't."

"She has," said Harry teasingly.

"Shut it Harry, I haven't," complained Catalina.

"What's her name then?" asked Hermione, smiling at the two.

Harry was grinning at Catalina recklessly, who was giving him another meaningful look, as if daring him to continue.

"She's called Doggie," he said, with a wide grin.

"Doggie?" queried Hermione with a raised eyebrow.

"Duggie," cut in Catalina hastily, "he said Duggie - it's his accent, it's a wonder you can understand him."

"Duggie?" she merely asked.

"Deegie," added Harry, having what seemed like a staring contest with Catalina.

"Deegie?" asked Hermione exasperatedly, "make up your mind…"

"Deegie," repeated Catalina, looking thoughtful, "That's quite a good one…"

"I was only joking," laughed Harry, reaching forward and scooping up the cat, "you don't want to really be called Deegie, do you cat?"

It chose that exact moment to open and bleary eye and give a long miaow and it stretched itself, digging its claws harmlessly into Harry's robes. They all gave a small laugh, and what looked like a newly christened 'Deegie' fell back asleep, feeling it had done enough movement for one day.

*

****

AN/ So that's it for THREE WEEKS. You shall get the next chapter on August the 10th/11th. Sorry guys, but I'm sure you won't even care!

P.S. Book Five? Wow. And the newly deceased character - SOBS.

As you might have guessed, this fanfic is written assuming book five doesn't exist. 


	17. Bellicose

****

AN/ The author would like to apologise for the serious delay in the input of this chapter - for full details, see authors note at the end of this chapter. All you have to do now, is sit back and enjoy the long awaited 16th chapter…Given to you from Plymouth, with love…

Rated for mild swearing…

"_The greenhouse is no place for the rampant hormones of teenagers_,"

~*~*~ Chapter Sixteen ~*~*~

Bellicose

Catalina was woken up the next morning by Hermione informing her via a pillow it was time to get up. She screwed her eyes up tighter.

She didn't want to get out of bed today. It was a cold, dark and horrible, outside _and_ in her own head. She decided how much she really did hate Hogwarts now, or how much the place seemed to hate her. She thought it was an amazing contrast two different people's views could give on one place. Harry hated to be away from the school for a moment, he seemed to live and breathe for the place, whereas herself, she lived and breathed for an opportunity to be away from it. 

Everyone here hated her, she knew they did. She could hear it in the whispers, see it in the looks people gave her, feel it in the way the teachers acted towards her. If it weren't for her three best friends, she'd go insane in this place. 

She remembered she didn't have hardly any potion left anymore, and couldn't expect any more until tomorrow when Snape had brewed some more. Her stomach plunged. How could she get up now? How could she climb out of bed and face those people feeling like she did?

She tried to do what Harry had told her, to think happy thoughts. She tried to remember the heat of the bright sun, or the sound of everyone laughing at a joke. It all seemed so distant, too _unreal_…It was like being told about an alien thing. She didn't think she'd ever laugh again, not the way she was feeling just then anyway.

She looked across to her bedside table, taking in her photos. The first was of her mother, taken when she was a newly graduated witch and had travelled to India. She had lived there for five years, something Catalina found very impressive. Imagine living in the same place for that long? Far from making her want to jump out of her bed, this memory saddened her. Her mother was currently sitting in a hospital bed over two hundred miles away, showing no signs of getting better.

She closed her eyes and tried to stop the tears that were welling up when she thought about her poor mother, all alone with no one to visit her. She prised them open, and sank further into her bed, there was no way she was getting out of bed now. However, her eyes were drawn to the second picture, of her sitting on Ron's lap, and Hermione sitting on Harry's in Hagrid's hut last year. It was such a funny photo and made her smile every time she saw it, especially the grins on Ron's and Harry's faces. Today it managed to raise the slightest flicker of a smile.

But the third one did, the third one was the reason she got out of bed most days. She paused her gaze on the photo, the colours, the decorations on the walls, the robes, the dancing figures in the background. She wished she could wind back time to that night, and live it for the rest of her life. She wished she could recreate that pose. 

A heavy black cloud settled on her shoulders as she slowly pulled back the covers and sat up. A sudden headache engulfed her head and she grasped it with some force as she climbed to her feet. Everyone had disappeared down to the showers when she looked around and she looked out the window.

The weather had decided to match her mood.

She reached over to her bedside table and found one of her potion vials. There were several in the bottom of her trunk as well. Soon she had collected them all together, and began to shake the dregs of each into an empty vial. What she eventually collected was less than a spoonful but she shook it into her mouth desperately, anything to help. She ran a finger inside the glass, a licked off the purple gooey solution. 

She was just repeating the action on another vial when there was a sudden tap on the window. She looked up to see the bird again. The same blackbird that came every time, the same bird that sat and watched her with its cruel black eyes until she let it into the room.

"Not here…" she moaned to herself, "you can't find me here…"

The bird pecked at the window again, and she moved towards it hesitantly, talking to herself wildly. She had honestly thought now she was Hogwarts she would be safe...he wouldn't be able to see her here. She flipped the latch on the leaded window, and swung it open and the vicious little bird fought to get it. It held out it's leg, to which another red letter was tied. 

With shaking fingers the burden was released, and the bird fluttered away, its wings catching her face making her jump back in distress. She held the letter and stared down at it. Not today, not when she was feeling so bad. She desperately wanted to get rid of it, but in another way, she needed to know what it contained.

Eventually she pulled the letter open, pulling out the small piece of parchment. As she unfurled it something fluttered to the ground. A piece of paper. She bent down and picked it up, flipping it over.

She gasped in horror at the image on the paper, the photo. It was a magical picture, of her and Harry in Diagon Alley less than a week ago. But the thing that made her feel sick to the stomach, was the fact that the image of Harry had been cruelly slashed until only tattered remains of his outline could be seen. 

She crumpled up the photo of her happily laughing self and looked around the room desperately - where could she hide it?

In the end she dropped it on the floor, and whispered "_Incendio_," until nothing was left but a small pile of ash, smouldering slightly. She brushed her sweaty hair from her face and looked down at the letter, only a few words adorned the page.

__

You should smile more often.

Stay away from him, he doesn't deserve you.

She looked up, breathing deeply and shoved the letter angrily into the envelope. She staggered over to her trunk, lifted up the engraved lid and reached down for the now bulging pack of letters, which totalled 23 now. She shoved this one in and slammed the lid down. 

The only consolation she had was the fact that the photo was taken in Diagon Alley when she was surrounded by people - strangers and friends. At least she had a chance of being seen there. If the photo had been of her somewhere private, here at Hogwarts or at Harry's - then she knew she'd have to get really worried. 

She wondered again whether she should tell someone. Maybe if she did they could help her, they could get rid of him for her. But then she realised if she told someone about the letters, she'd have to explain everything. 

Her story was not one she wanted to have to relive, she did that everyday in her head anyway. 

*

He was looking at a high alter, covered in deep purple cloth and strange objects and symbols. He frowned at it, it looked oversized and cartoon-like somehow. He turned to his right to see Ron standing there, looking older yet excited, holding something in his hand - a small, blue box.

"Here we go mate," he said with a smile as music piped into the room inexplicably, "it's been a long time coming, eh?"

He heard the sounds of a small group of people moving, and he turned around to see what they were looking at. As soon as he looked behind his shoulder however, the scene melted away and was replaced by a long, dingy corridor he recognised as belonging to the lower dungeons of Hogwarts.

He looked to his side but Ron had gone. He felt an inexplicable disappointment, as if he'd missed out on something important by turning around. He began to walk down the corridor cautiously. There was a noise far away, he could hear the chatter of people, students, laughing above. He looked up and listened intently, he could hear a voice clearly now, laughing down the corridor.

It was a nice sound he mused as he walked forward, the laughter rang through the corridors, bounced off the walls making the place seem brighter. It moved into his very soul, making him feel alive.

He glimpsed movement up ahead and stopped to look. He could see the figure more clearly now, running towards him.

"Harry!"

He recognised the person, but not the actions as she ran towards him, laughing happily, face shining with anticipation. She came towards him, white robes flapping behind her as she skidded to a halt in front of him.

"Dzien Dobry," she said, eyes dancing with laughter.

"What?" he heard himself ask.

She held up her hands in front of him, beckoning him forward as she moved away. He followed her without a thought, but she soon got impatient of him.

"Ici, Ici!" she laughed, barely keeping her excitement in.

"Where are we going?" he asked the happy girl, grinning himself now as the sound of her laughter spread.

She threw her hands up to the sky at his reluctance, and darted forward.

She reached out.

She grabbed his hand.

There was an explosion of white light…and he woke up.

Wrapped in his blankets, Harry Potter's eyes flew open. He stared ahead of him in the darkness for a few moments. _What _was all that about?

He rolled onto his back and looked at the canopy of his bed. It was pitch black outside still so he didn't bother with his glasses. He wondered about the dream, he couldn't remember much of it now, he remembered he recognised the girl…was it a girl now? He wasn't sure. He couldn't remember…but there was music, a tune he recognised…

No, it was gone, the harder he tried to remember it, the further away he chased it until all that was left was a vague sense of happiness, as if the dream-Harry had achieved something great.

He closed his eyes again tightly, taking some time to fall back to sleep, in which he only dreamt of normal things. If the word normal can be used to describe anyone's dream. 

He woke up what seemed like minutes later to see the sun climbing the sky and everyone stirring in his dorm. He sighed happily, before he registered a horrible feeling of fear, sickness and anger rolled into one. 

He tried to place the feeling, realising a few moments later it was coming from Catalina. He sat up worriedly and began to get dressed, feeling distressed at her feelings, wondering what had caused them.

"Ugh, long day today," moaned Ron from the bed opposite, "Divination, Herbology _and _Care of Magical Creatures …as well as Snape's after lesson brewing class."

"I forgot about that," said Harry with a disappointed frown, "Snape two days in a row, how evil."

"Definitely," agreed Ron, "I just wonder what wonderful creature Hagrid's got ready for us this year."

"He said something about them 'hatching out' in a letter for my birthday," said Harry cautiously, "so don't get your hopes up for anything nice…"

"I gave up on that a _long _time ago," said Ron dryly, picking up his bag, "all set?"

"Yeah, lets go," said Harry, eager to get down to see what was up with Catalina.

As they entered the Common Room they were surprised to see that the girls weren't down yet, usually they were always waiting for them. They lounged on the seats for a while as most of the Tower went down to breakfast, before they could hear the girls descending the stairs. They came into view and Harry craned his neck to see Catalina, who was looking pale and drawn.

"Sorry we're late," said Hermione as the boys got up, "minor emergency…everything's sorted out now."

It was only then that Harry noticed Catalina's eyes were looking rather bloodshot, and her nose a little redder than usual.

"Right, in that case, lets head off," said Ron, already walking towards the portrait, "there's a couple of rashers of bacon down there with my name on it…calling to me."

Hermione rolled her eyes and Ron looked at her in mock surprise.

"I kid ye not, listen," he said before putting on a squeaky voice, "Ron! Ron! Come to us! Eat us!"

Hermione giggled and Ron beamed happily as they walked down the corridor and even Catalina managed a small laugh. Harry walked closer to her and dropped his voice slightly as the other two chatted away.

"Are you ok?" he asked anxiously.

She hefted her book bag and gave a noncommittal shrug. 

"Catalina, come on…what's wrong?" 

"Only had half my potion left…I'm just feeling run down…" she said in a world weary voice, "…I've got a touch of the blues…"

Harry nodded as if he understood and tried to occupy her with some light-hearted banter as they sat down in the Great Hall. He understood almost immediately the effect not having her full potion was having on her. Whereas yesterday her treatment didn't seem to phase her, today she looked like she could hear every comment and whisper sent her way. She wasn't eating either, her breakfast lay untouched on her plate as she pushed it around with her fork, straining to respond to any of their attempts to cheer her up.

"Well, I was going to say you could look forward to your lessons," said Ron through a full mouth of bacon, "but we've got another set of terrifying monsters to face so I'd be lying."

She gave them a feigned smile and continued to eat, with only Harry noticing the full extent of her worries today. He gave a heavy sigh, deciding there was nothing he could do but weather it out. 

Divination went slowly, Professor Trelawney predicted Harry's death, _again. _It was nothing new, the same stuff he heard every year and brushed it off with a feigned look of wide-eyed fright. Ron sniggered behind his hand and even Catalina managed a weak grin as he shared a low conversation with the Professor on his impending doom, looking every bit the scared believer. 

"Knowledge is a heavy burden," said Trelawney heavily, before flitting off to the recesses of the room.

"Are you heavily burdened Harry?" asked Ron in mock-seriousness when she'd gone out of earshot. 

"Yes," said Harry tragically, "but promise me this…when I go, you don't let Malfoy dance on my grave. Last thing I want to do is give that little eejit something to smile about."

Ron snorted with laughter as Catalina even managed a soft chuckle, quickly turning it into a cough as Trelawney hovered past, heading towards Neville who was moaning in frustration to Seamus about his crystal ball.

"Either it's cracked on the inside or we can expect lightening," he said, vigorously buffing the surface with his sleeve with the vague hope it would improve his inner eye. 

"You'd think she'd get embarrassed about all these predictions of your horrific deaths which never come true," said Ron.

"Well, she'll be right one day," laughed Harry, "I'll bet _she'll _dance on my grave - at least it would mean she was finally proved right."

"I mean, it's not really that likely that you'll drown today is it?" asked Ron, laughing at her latest prediction of death by pond water, "you haven't really come close to any of her death predictions."

"Not the ways she predicts anyway! I was unconscious once on a day of her prediction," added Harry helpfully, "she was jumping for joy I bet."

"Can we talk about something else?" asked Catalina with a forced smile, "you guys are dead depressing."

"Sorry," apologised Harry, feeling instantly guilty.

"We could talk about Quidditch?" asked Ron suddenly, "now Harry's captain of the team."

"Am I?" he asked, "news to me."

"Well you're the only original team member left now," shrugged Ron, "I guess that makes you captain by default.

"Wow," said Harry, feeling impressed, "that's so cool."

"Dream come true?" joked Ron.

"Your life is now complete," said Catalina, trying to join in with the light-hearted banter.

"I'm not going that far," he laughed, "but near."

By the end of the class Harry was very impressed to see that Trelawney had tactfully left Catalina out of her death predictions, Lord knows he was grateful. He could just imagine her reaction if she'd told her an impending demise was on the cards. 

"One down, two to go," sighed Ron as the descended the staircase, "lets go meet Hermione before Herbology…"

They found her waiting outside the Entrance Hall for them, with an eager expression. It appeared that her arithmacy class had been _that _thrilling, and she soon set about explaining to a slightly unfocussed looking Ron how they could work out something from some kind of complex formula. Harry and Catalina trailed behind the two in companionable silence, Harry's thoughts were miles away, in a different country as it was. He was wondering if Poland was a cold place…_again_.

"I'm quite impressed by Ron's listening skills," said Catalina suddenly, watching the backs of their two friends.

"I don't really think he's listening to what she's saying," said Harry with a slight laugh, "he's got that vacant expression that he gets when something's going right over his head."

She gave a slight laugh and Harry's face split into a wider grin. It seemed she was getting over her morning blues somewhat.

"Has he spoken to you about her?" she asked curiously as they crossed the expansive grounds of Hogwarts.

"You're kidding aren't you?" laughed Harry at the thought, "we don't really talk about y…things like that."

She gave him a grin, her head tilted ever so slightly to one side as if she was considering something and Harry gave a helpless shrug. He could see the laughter dancing in her eyes, making her pale features look completely transformed from their baleful look moments ago. 

"She talks to me about _things like that_," she said importantly, flipping her hair over her shoulder in an overly fake girly way.

"Oh really," said Harry interestedly, "and what, pray tell, does she say?"

"Oh, that would be telling," she said airily

"Now you've _got _to tell me," he said, stepping in front of her to bar her way, "what did she say?"

"My lips are sealed," she teased, drawing a finger across her finger across her lips, "zippp!"

"Aw come on," he begged.

"Nie," she laughed sticking her tongue out, before trying to dodge him.

"Just a hint!" he pleaded, blocking her teasingly.

"I could move you with a flick of my little finger," she said cockily.

"So could I," he replied smugly.

"Oh yeah," she said in mock-disappointment, "but I could still get past you if I _really _wanted to."

"Ah, but do you really_ want_ to?" he asked her with a raised eyebrow.

"Mr Potter, Miss Firelight. If you're ready to join the class?" came a voice from behind him.

He spun around to see Madam Sprout and the rest of the class watching them, the Gryffindor's with a mix of curiosity and amusement, the Slytherin's with glares and titters. Harry blushed and coughed with embarrassment as they both trotted up to the awaiting class, avoiding everyone's gaze.

"Good time to practise your flirting skills," muttered Ron to him as he stood next to him at the workbench.

Harry merely glared at him and replied stiffly, "I wasn't _flirting_."

"Yeah right," laughed Ron as he watched Hermione nudging Catalina with an uncharacteristic smirk, "and I'm the king of England."

"Well, your majesty, that's right," he replied, "we were talking about the latest action between you and Hermione _actually_…or lack thereof as the case maybe."

That certainly shut him up, and they spent the next ten minutes in silence as they pruned their plant at one workbench, as the girls were re-potting theirs. The Slytherin's were all sniggering their little pug-faces off at Harry who looked across to them angrily, it wasn't _that _funny.

He looked across to the other Gryffindor's to see them all whispering together, shooting occasional glances at Catalina. Harry frowned at the looks on their faces, which looked none too friendly, and averted his eyes when they looked his way. He swore he heard them muttering something about him. He glared at his Somina bush, viciously pulling off its leaves without a care for what he was doing.

He looked up at the others again, but was suddenly side-tracked when he noticed Malfoy was staring at Catalina, who was focussing of the small plant she was working on with intense concentration. She was notoriously bad at Herbology and Malfoy was following her every move as she cut off half the stem by7 mistake. It made him even angrier for some reason to see him staring at her like that, following her every move with those cold eyes of his.

Harry nudged Ron in the ribs and motioned over to Malfoy with his pruning shears. Ron looked across and frowned as they both watched Malfoy continue this staring for some minutes. Catalina was completely oblivious, humming to herself vaguely, Hermione said something to her and she smiled suddenly, her entire face lighting up in brief happiness. 

Harry dragged his eyes away from this sight to see something he'd never really seen before, and sent shivers down his spine. _Malfoy _was _smiling_.

It wasn't his usual smirk, or sadistic little grin, but a warm…smile. Harry was taken aback by the sight and looked at Ron open-mouthed, who looked at him with an equal amount of shock. 

"Ok now that's just…wrong," he said blankly.

Harry glared at Malfoy with a sudden amount of intensified hate, thinking that walking over and wiping that smile off of his face seemed like a really good idea. 

"Eughh, horrible thought," said Ron suddenly, looking like he'd been sucking on an acid pop, "do you think he _fancies _her?"

Harry blanched at this thought, and it quickly turned to fury, "No way…he hates her, look at all that stuff he did to her last year - the teasing, the time he locked her in that cupboard? Be realistic…"

"I don't know," said Ron shaking his head slightly, "look at him - he's practically drooling all over his plant!"

"I can see that," muttered Harry fiercely, "but a Malfoy liking a Gryffindor…and the heir of Gryffindor no less?"

"True," conceded Ron, "how twisted…"

"He doesn't like her," said Harry with an air of finality, "I won't _let _him like her…"

They returned to their work but Harry kept a close watch on Malfoy, feeling more and more irritated with his obvious behaviour. He felt something suddenly hit his head, and he looked down to see a purple berry sitting on the table. He looked across the greenhouse to see Catalina waving a purple-stained hand at him, trying to get his attention.

__

What? He mouthed across to her, grinning again.

__

What's up with you? She asked him back, motioning with her fingers in the air, the sign she usually used for their 'connection'. Obviously she could feel his anger towards the eejit in the corner.

He gave a vague shrug, before looking across to Malfoy, who was now watching him. Harry narrowed his eyes at the boy dangerously.

"What are you staring at?" he asked him curtly.

His frankly unbalancing smile was now replaced with a smirk.

"I don't know, but it's staring right back," he replied cockily.

Harry gripped his shears tighter, willing himself not to launch at the smirking idiot right there and then. 

"By the way Potter, that little show before class? Very impressive," he said, laughing coldly as his two cronies suddenly appeared to cotton on and join in.

"Jealous?" asked Harry with an icy glare, well aware of Catalina watching the two across the room, trying to crane her neck to hear what they were saying.

"Yeah right," replied Malfoy, a pink tinge appearing on his pale cheeks, "Of a paranoid psychotic little bitch like that?"

Harry saw red.

"Right!" he hissed furiously, slamming down his shears, "I've had enough of you!"

He vaulted over the workbench in one quick motion, knocking off the pot he was working on, which shattered on the floor. He strode over to Malfoy and yanked him towards him, bunched up his robes in one hand.

"Take that back," he said in a low deadly voice.

"Mr Potter!" came the harsh voice of the Professor suddenly, "stop that at once!"

Harry glared at Malfoy furiously, who merely smirked back, angering him even more. He eventually pushed him backwards, still shaking with rage.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor!" cried the Professor, sounded torn between outrage and shock, "now pack up your things and wait outside!"

"Fine," hissed Harry angrily at Malfoy, whose gaze slipped across to Catalina again.

Harry turned away and pulled his bag from under the table with a tug, boots further crushing the broken plant pot into the dirt floor. The entire room was watching him in silence, but he was too angry with Malfoy to care. He swung his bag onto his back and made for the door, jostling Malfoy fiercely with his shoulder as he walked past and booting the door open.

"Don't think I didn't see that Mr Potter!" cried Sprout after him as the door banged shut.

It took him a while to calm down. He leant against the glass wall of the classroom before wearily sinking to the ground. He gazed off into the distance, thinking about Malfoy. He always knew exactly wind him up the wrong way, always knew how to just push him too far. He realised that must have been Malfoy's aim the whole time, to get him into trouble, it always was. Malfoy had managed to cultivate his ability at manipulating Harry's over-protectiveness in a way he'd never managed to return.

He'd felt ready to punch the lights out of the creep before he'd even said anything about Catalina - the looks were enough. He had a vague reason why it annoyed him so much. He couldn't stand they way he was watching her, and the way he was smiling, it was like he was mentally undressing her with his eyes.

The thought made him shudder horribly, and he forced himself not to get too angry again - lest he walk back into the room and finish what he started. He stared at the vague shape of Hagrid conducting a lesson across the grounds and tried not to think about Malfoy thinking about Catalina. 

It wasn't as if he had any special rights over her, he thought suddenly. It wasn't like he could say who should and shouldn't look at her. He realised the thing that bothered him most about his encounter with Malfoy today was the way that his expression was similar to the one he always felt himself getting when he was around her. 

And although Harry knew she would never choose Malfoy, she wasn't exactly going to chose him either was she? Oh lets just depress myself fully then shall we, he thought bitterly to himself. He really didn't need to be reminded that she didn't like him. 

He was surprised to hear that the class were packing up already and he checked his watch to see he been mulling over his angry thoughts for the past half an hour, totally oblivious. He saw the first stream of students come out, mostly Gryffindor's, looking down at him with a mixture of curiosity and approval at nearly hitting Malfoy, again. 

Ron strode out and Harry climbed to his feet.

"You ought to watch your temper," was all he said, "you could have got into real trouble."

"I don't give a toss," said Harry angrily, "he has no right to say that stuff!"

"I know that but-" began Ron before the girls walked out.

Hermione and Catalina stood in front of him, and Harry avoided their eyes, noticing the confusion coming off Catalina. He looked across the fields again, feeling Catalina searching his face for some kind of clue to explain his behaviour.

"What was all that about?" demanded Hermione at once, taking the aggressive stance, with her hands on her hips.

"Nothing," snapped Harry, seeing Malfoy stride out.

"Nice try Potter," he sneered, "shame you weren't fast enough eh?"

"Fuck you," he replied, his original anger building up again.

"Harry!" cried Hermione in a shocked voice.

Malfoy spread his arms eagle and walked backwards with a wide grin, "Come on then, if you think you're such a big tough guy."

"Gladly," Harry growled, making a start forward.

Ron shot a strong arm out a pushed him back against the glass, unnecessarily hard in his opinion. Malfoy laughed at this and swaggered off across the grounds, Slytherin's crowding around him eagerly.

"Get of me," said Harry, shrugging Ron's arm angrily, "GET OFF!"

"Fine, fine," said Ron heavily, holding his hands up defensively.

"Mr Potter," came Madame Spouts voice, "A word if you please?"

Harry gave a sigh and pushed past the three, walking into the classroom. Madame Sprout merely pointed to the smashed pot of the floor, "You can clean that up for a start."

He obliged silently, picking up the pieces of broken terracotta and re-potted the plant quickly. Madam Sprout merely watched him, and when he finished she motioned for him to come over to her head table. Harry followed her and leaned against the table in front of hers sullenly.

"I don't suppose you would tell me what that was about if I asked you?" she said while Harry shrugged slightly, "I thought not."

She gave a heavy sigh, and lowered herself into a small patched chair, fixing him with another kindly look. 

"Harry, I understand you are under a lot of pressure this year," she began in her best therapist voice, "but you can not let it get in the way of your schoolwork. I will not tolerate this sort of behaviour in my classroom - not only is it against school rules, but it also dangerous in this environment. The greenhouse is no place for the rampant hormones of teenagers."

"Yes, sorry Professor Sprout," muttered Harry, studying his shoes carefully as he blushed to the roots of his hair. 

"Now, I want you to do something about that temper of yours," she said giving him an encouraging smile, "the Order are putting a lot of faith in you, get this under control before your upcoming task. We don't want this getting in the way of your job do we?"

"No Professor Sprout," said Harry, feeling even more ashamed now.

"Right, get yourself off to dinner then Harry," she said, leading him across to the door, "and if it happens again, I'll be forced to inform the headmaster that you may not be suitable for your task."

She closed the door in his face and he gulped deeply. He could just imagine what the Order would say if he told them he couldn't help with the resistance because he was jealous of the attention that his crush was getting. He scrubbed his face with his hands, vowing not let Malfoy get to him again like that.

"You get a bollocking?" asked Ron helpfully.

"Not really," he told them, as Hermione smacked Ron on the arm admonishingly for swearing, "let's just go to dinner yeah?"

"What did she say then?" asked Ron, not moving yet.

"_The greenhouse is no place for the rampant hormones of teenagers_," imitated Harry, laughing bitterly and walking off. 

The others sped up to match his long, angry strides and he tried to force himself to calm down again. Sprout was right, he needed to sort out his temper, and quick, before something happened. 

They trekked across the grounds while Hermione shot him glances, before sharing looks with Catalina.

"So I don't suppose you're going to tell us why you tried to punch Malfoy's lights out?" she finally asked.

"Does anyone need a reason to want to hit that git?" asked Harry as they walked up the stairs, "his whole face just begs a punching."

"Nice try," she said, "but come on, what was he on about?"

"It's none of your business Hermione," said Harry irritably.

"Hey, just because you're angry with _him _doesn't mean you can take it out on me," she said indignantly, face flushing with anger.

"Watch me," said Harry, booting the door open with unnecessary force.

She looked across to Ron, who felt he ought to maybe defend Hermione's honour in the face of Harry's slight. 

"Harry, shut up, your being a jerk," he said simply, and rather bravely in his opinion, "Hermione's right. Your fight's with Malfoy, not us."

Harry remained stubbornly silent for a few minutes before muttering his apology to Hermione, who accepted it, but still didn't talk to him for a while.

"Listen, let's just forget about it ok?" Ron told them a while later in a forced jovial voice, "it's nothing important."

"Important enough to attack someone though," muttered Hermione under her breath, though very quietly, and so Harry couldn't hear.

They trudged into the Great Hall and Harry purposely did not look in the Slytherin's table direction at all. They seated themselves at the table and Harry noticed for the first time that Catalina hadn't said anything since before he's launched himself at Malfoy. He looked up to her, wanting to surreptitiously check what she was thinking, but he found his gaze already being matched by hers.

She was staring at him, feline eyes never leaving his and Harry couldn't tell what she was thinking about at all. The noise of the Great Hall faded into the background as they watched each other for far longer than was necessary, both looking as if they were trying to figure something out. He recognised a flicker in her eyes, a familiar one, one that he recognised from his own face whenever he thought of her.

It that one moment his conviction of her not liking him wavered in front of him. He studied her features, as if seeking confirmation, before they both suddenly seemed to realise how they were acting. She looked away, cheeks flushing the darkest Harry had ever seen since he'd met her and she focussed on buttering a bread roll. He closed his eyes wearily, admonishing his stupidity as wishful thinking on his part, hoping he hadn't made her uncomfortable…_again._

Ron and Hermione meanwhile had been watching this exchange with disbelief. They personally couldn't see how Harry could delude himself for so long, making everyone believe that she didn't like him _half _as much as he liked her. They were so obvious, so compatible, so _what_ was going on?

Ron looked across to Hermione with a raised eyebrow, as she watched the two happily with a lovestruck look in her eyes.

"Are you going to tell _me_ what it was about?" she asked him softly.

Hermione watched Harry look up looking slightly shamefaced, completely oblivious that they were dinner times entertainment.

"It really wasn't anything," he assured her, "just Malfoy being his usual charming self."

Hermione suddenly understood what had happened. Malfoy had obviously said something to Harry, something about Catalina. She could see it in his eyes, the way he tried to avoid telling her, by trying to protect her. She thought it was incredibly romantic.

"Was it about me?" she asked him nervously.

"Of course not," he replied brazenly, "I really would have hit him one then wouldn't I?"

Hermione sighed.

"Oh good," she said happily, looking suddenly abashed by Harry's statement. 

He gave her a sudden grin that lit up her eyes expectantly.

"Anyway, they're asking for trouble aren't they really, putting the Slytherin's and Gryffindor's in the same classrooms."

****

AN/ Well, here's my groveling apology to you all. I have had _such _a summer. Once I got back from holiday I got my exam results - A,A,B! which meant that I got into my university! So I move out of home in less than a month - sobs! But it also means I've been up and down the country sorting out my apartment and loans and bank accounts and stuff. That coupled with a need for cash in the form of extra shifts means I haven't had to time to write or update! UNTIL NOW.

To all those who have waited - you are truly shiny, shiny stars and I love you all - your too dedicated!

Teaser trailer for next chapter: "Catalina!" said Hermione, looking shocked at Catalina's plan, whole Ron merely chuckled appreciatively, "you're underage!"

Hmmm…was that too teasing? Paffy

.


	18. Caught in the Middle

****

~*~*~ Chapter Seventeen ~*~*~

Caught in the Middle

"Gather round then, gather round!" boomed Hagrid's excited voice over the chatter of the assembled group, "have I got a surprise for yeh!"

Everyone shuffled forward nervously, awaiting the next fantastic beast Hagrid would unleash on their unsuspecting limbs. He simply motioned them over to the paddock behind his house, a youthful spring in his step as they neared it. Harry became aware of a clicking noise, punctuated by various yelps or calls, he said a silent prayer as the looked over the fence. 

His mouth dropped open at the sight.

The small paddock was littered with broken black shells of eggs that had been cracked open, and the creatures from inside were crawling across the grass. Harry stared at them, rubbing his eyes in case they were deceiving him, they were…they couldn't be…

"Dragons!" yelped Malfoy, pushing himself away from the fence, "You've got Dragons?!"

Harry stared in disbelief at the forms on the grass, they were unmistakable. Every single one of them looked like Baby Norbert clones, all spindly wings and scaly skin, clicking towards each other as they bumbled around blindly. 

"Er Hagrid?" said Hermione faintly, "you _can't _keep twenty dragons behind your cabin!"

Hagrid merely beamed at everyone's expressions and protestations, and walked into the paddock, locking the door tightly. He picked one of the black creatures up and balanced it on his arm, walking over to the fence.

"What's he playing at?" hissed Ron to the others, "Dumbledore can't have let him do this could he?"

Harry merely shrugged, and Hermione looked equally shocked, watching Hagrid stroke the scaly thing under the chin with a massive finger. 

"No way," she said, watching a small hiccup of flame in one corner, "oh no, no way, he wouldn't let us look after twenty dragons!"

"They're not dragons," said Catalina, and the others turned to her questioningly.

"Of course they're bloody dragons," said Ron, "look at them!"

She knelt to the floor and took a hand in between the slats of the paddock fence, and clicked her fingers at the nearest dragon. She then proceeded to make a clicking noise with her tongue that sounded exactly like dragon's calls. The nearest one scuttled towards her, and she stroked it under the chin as if it were a poodle.

"No," she said calmly, "they're swamp dragons…"

"Swamp dragons?" asked Hermione, kneeling down, "_I've _never heard of a swamp dragon before."

"They're Russian," she told them, as they all peered through the slats at the one she was stroking, "right across in the east, they can't usually survive out of their native lands. They're like miniature dragons, never grow much larger that 2ft long. Wizards don't usually like them, they're a bit useless you see."

"Miniature dragons?" asked Harry reaching in tentatively to the dragon, remembering fully well what happened to Ron's hand when they were looking after Norbert. 

"Yeah, same family. They usually die pretty quickly, unstable stomach with all those chemicals swishing around inside. They're only ever used in Russia as novelty pets for a few weeks before the fun of having your front room smouldering wears off."

Harry and Ron chuckled and Hagrid's voice suddenly cut off any further conversation. 

"Now, any idea what these are?" he called out, motioning with the dragon perched on his arm looking like a bizarre falcon. 

Everyone as silent for a few seconds, before someone in the background suddenly said, "Er, Dragons?"

There were some titters and Harry looked into the excited face of Hagrid. He looked so happy at that moment, as if his greatest dream had come true. 

"Nope!" he said with a booming laugh, "these beauties are…swamp dragons!"

There was some interested whisperings going on in the group and Hagrid lowered the dragon to the floor. Only the four of the Gryffindor's smiled knowingly, feeling quite superior to their classmates.

"So, can yeh tell me anythin about 'em?" asked Hagrid, rubbing his hands together eagerly.

There was a long silence, and Harry looked at Catalina who was keeping firmly tight-lipped over her apparent knowledge of the creatures. Hermione nudged her, and hissed at her to speak up. She merely pretended as if she couldn't hear her, and watched the paddock with a far away look in her eyes, as if she was remembering something from a long time ago. 

"Well, let me tell yeh then," began Hagrid, and proceeded to launch into a detailed description of the animals, nearly word-for-word of what Catalina had said, with a few embellishes.

"Ok, now yeh task for the next term, is to take a swamp dragon each, an look after it. I want yeh to make it into a sort of project - and yeh should write down all about yeh dragon - what he eats and doesn't, his behaviour, everythin!"

Harry nodded appreciatively, maybe this wasn't going to be that bad. He'd faced a fully-grown dragon - protecting a brood of her eggs no less. He reckoned he could look after a tiny two foot one for a while. Everyone was finally brought into the paddock, and picked the way through the hatched eggs to find a dragon that wasn't looking particularly fierce of sickly.

Harry, Ron and Hermione had soon tentatively picked up their dragons, and went and sat in one corner deciding that what Hagrid wanted most was for them to just observe the creatures. Catalina however was talking to Hagrid about the dragons - where he got them from, how long he'd had them while Hagrid looked positively ecstatic to see someone taking so much interest. 

"Yeh can come down anytime yeh want and watch em if yeh want," he said, "ah'll appreciate the company of a fellow animal lover as well."

She smiled and said she'd love to. Hagrid motioned over to the last few dragons.

"Better take t'big one," he said, "t'other one's a bit sickly. Runt of the litter y'see?"

Catalina looked across to the one he was talking about, a tiny creature compared to the others, whose wings were already looking patched and broken. It was struggling to crawl across the lawn miserably, looking sad at the lack of attention it was getting compared to its brothers and sisters.

"Ah should put it out it's misery really," said Hagrid sadly, "but I aint got t'heart."

"You can keep the big one Hagrid," said Catalina softly, "I'll take this one."

She picked up the sickly creature and Hagrid watched her walk over to her friends looking confused. That creature was going to die any day and then she'd have no project to do. 

She sat down in the circle of friends, who had between them three healthy looking dragons, hers looking particularly run down in comparison. Ron raised his eye at Hermione at Catalina's choice, but she merely shrugged, and continued to stroke hers. 

"They're not really that bad are they?" asked Ron, as his licked the back of his hand with a rough tongue.

"No," said Harry thoughtfully, "I definitely prefer them this size."

"You're not an evil flame throwing lizard are you boy?" asked Ron comically, cooing to the dragon as if it were a baby.

They supervised the dragon's as they played and Harry watched Catalina with hers, wondering why she picked the most sickly and tiny dragon out of the lot. Hermione and Ron were laughing at Dean and Seamus, who were trying to pit their dragon's against each other in a dragon duel. But Harry however, was transfixed by watching Catalina with hers, stroking it as she spoke to it softly. He couldn't understand any of the words and only caught snatches of what she was saying to her animal.

"Debooyanti…shycovnia…walsea."

The dragon was curled up in her lap like some kind of bizarre lap dog, leaning a drooling chin on her knee, a small patch of the fabric was disappearing in the barrage of its acidic spit.

"I don't think he understands you," said Harry, causing her to jump slightly, not realising she was being watched. 

She gave him a silent half smile and returned to her dragon, as Harry watched his speed around their mini enclosure, chasing Hermione's who was snorting and clicking loudly. The lesson was spent happily, one of their most enjoyable ever as the swamp dragons played around the paddock happily and Hagrid watched them with brimming eyes. 

When the class ended, all the animals were herded into their own special boxes Hagrid had created for them to stay in. Harry watched with amusement as his fought tooth and nail to stay on the outside of the box as Catalina's gratefully crawled in. She shut the cage door and poked a small finger through. 

"Do widzenia," she said softly, having to be practically dragged away from the cage by Hermione as they traipsed back to the common room, another day of lessons thankfully over. 

"That was a good lesson eh?" asked Ron happily, as they waltzed off to dinner.

"Yeah, definitely," said Harry as he thought of the mini-dragons, and of course, their homework accompanying them. 

"I reckon that Swampy would beat Dean's in a fight," said Ron proudly, while everyone turned and turned and stared at him.

"Swampy?" asked Hermione, eyebrows raised.

"My dragon…" muttered Ron.

"You reckon _Swampy _would beat Dean's in a fight?" she asked, grinning at him widely.

"Well yeah," said Ron, looking rather red around the ears, before defiantly answering, "Well he would!"

"Boys," muttered Hermione casting a dirty look in Harry's direction, striding over to the dinner table, "why is it always fight, fight, fight?"

"Girls," mimicked Ron, "why is it always, bitch, fight, moan?"

"Shut it you," she said, savagely hitting him on the arm.

"Ow!" said Ron, rubbing his arm angrily.

"Well you deserved it," sniffed Hermione, "right Catalina?"

"Every rose has its thorns," she replied, to which everyone just looked at her blankly.

"Yeah, that's right Hermione," she admitted wearily, and Hermione gave Ron a superior look.

"Eat up," cautioned Harry, hoping to avoid another of Ron and Hermione's famous conflicts that had been less than frequent recently, "we need our strength if were going to endure Snape."

*

Harry walked down to the new open common room that evening to meet the girls and Ron. They had gone down with Ginny and some of her friends and Harry was eager to see the common room, he had stayed behind as he tried to beat Dean in a game of chess. Dean was the only person Harry could come close to beating, but in the end his king was checkmated before he even saw it coming. 

So he proceeded down the common room, which was located just off the corridor to the Great Hall, adequate walking distance for all the houses. It was a normal door, with a plaque on it that simply read 'common room', he pushed it open to find a large chamber - decorated with magnolia walls and brown furniture - obviously the teachers had gone out of the way to not put any house colours in there.

He cast a look around, it was quite full and Harry noticed groups of people he'd only seen by sight mixing in groups of various houses. Harry saw a group of students watched a crackley tv in one corner, that was had a strange contraption on top, a few playing muggle boards games, others merely sitting around on the sofa's chatting. He finally found Catalina, slouching in a sofa looking intensely uncomfortable and nervous, as the group of girls around her were leaning forward and listening to a radio excitedly. 

Harry could immediately see the reason why she was looking so miserable. There was a wide ring, absolutely clear of people around her, as if everyone else had shuffled away from her - and the nervous and even hostile glances some people were shooting her proved his theory. Harry was annoyed to see that Hermione, in her interest in the contraption, had even shuffled forwards, unintentionally leaving Catalina completely alone. She was talking animatedly with Ginny as they fiddled with the knobs of the radio, laughing loudly as they listened to the stations they were getting through. 

Harry was about to walk over and put her out of her misery when she saw another figure walk over to her, someone he recognised and made him cringe in expectation - it was Cho Chang. Harry stopped dead in his tracks and even shuffled backwards a few paces, he did not want to get in-between those two. 

Catalina however gave her delighted look for some reason, Harry guessed she thought Cho was coming to talk to her since she looked so alone. However, Harry saw the nervous look Cho had on her face and only seemed to be asking if she could borrow an empty chair that was sat next to Catalina. Her face couldn't have fallen anymore if she just been told Christmas was cancelled from now on. 

She tried to hide it and motioned she could take away the chair, watching her intently. Cho must have looked to say thank you but Catalina said something to the other girl. Cho frowned down at Catalina, who said something else to her. Harry strained to hear but the chatter blaring from the tv and radio drowned it out before the volume of conversation did. Cho was frowning even more, and looking around, as if for help, before saying something to Catalina.

Harry decided to give up on lip reading and walk over, heart pounding uncomfortably.

"Evening," he said as he stood next to Catalina's chair.

"Alright Harry?" asked Cho politely - they hadn't really talked much since Cedric, and even before that after (embarrassingly) he'd asked her to the first Yule Ball. 

"Yeah, you?" he said, intensely uncomfortable, noticing Catalina was sinking further into her chair, looking incredibly embarrassed for some reason.

"Fine," she said, and there was a lingering silence, "well…I better go."

"Right see you," said Harry gratefully.

"Nice to meet you," said Cho, avoiding Catalina's gaze, looking as if it had been anything but.

"Yeah, you too. Bye," said Catalina in a strangled voice.

Cho practically ran across the room to her friends, dragging the chair in tow. Harry gave her a frown and sat on the footrest next to Catalina.

"Oh God, how embarrassing," said Catalina, cringing with her face covered in her hands.

"What?" asked Harry watching Catalina squirming, trying to control her laughter. 

"Well apart from the fact that it was the first time I've ever spoken to _her_," she said, waggling her eyebrows at Harry who blushed, "I just kind of assumed…"

"Assumed what?" asked Harry slowly, as she shook with silent laughter again. 

"AssumedshecouldspeakChinese," she mumbled going dark red.

"What?" he asked her, smiling slightly at her face.

"Assumed she could speak Chinese!" she said louder.

Harry laughed out loud at this and looked over to Cho who seemed to be telling a group of her friends about her close encounter with the suspected murderer. 

"What did you say?" asked Harry delightedly. 

"Just asked how long she'd been in England, where she came from…" she said, glaring at him as he held his stomach from laughter, "I only wanted to find out if we had friends in common…" 

"What did she say?" gasped Harry.

"Well when I said it in English, she just sort of said 'eighteen years…I'm from Norfolk', I could have died!"

Harry actually fell off his seat with laughter, and Catalina kicked him in the shins, "Its not funny! Shut it you!"

Everyone looked at them curiously, as Harry struggled for breath, pulling himself up onto the seat as Cho's friends suddenly burst out laughing as well. Catalina, if possible went even more red and sank further into her chair and Harry soon recovered himself sufficiently to talk again. 

"Sorry to tell you Catalina, but I think you may be more Chinese than Cho," he said, trying to keep a straight face.

"Yeah, thanks for telling me," she replied sarcastically, "I think I figured that out."

Harry finally stopped laughing and felt immensely glad that Catalina's embarrassment seemed to have taken her mind off the way Cho had looked at her, and her previous isolation. Ron walked over, looking quite unimpressed for some reason, until they found out he'd just been playing chess with a muggle board and told them it was dead boring. Hermione swung around in her seat, as if just remembering Catalina was there, and gave them a bright smile.

"You should check this thing out, it's amazing," she said motioning to the radio, "I've nearly got it tuned into muggle radio!"

"How does it work?" asked Harry, watching the girls fiddling with the knobs, "how does it even get WWN?"

"I think it's something to do with the charms on it, and that little machine on top?" she said, "I'll have to ask Professor McGonagall."

"I don't really care," said Harry helpfully.

"Well," she huffed, "it would be interesting to know, wouldn't it?"

Before Harry answered there was a loud crackling noise before a voice filled the room.

"This is Radio 1, Britain's best station for new music. It's seven forty-five, time for BBC Newsbeat."

Ginny clapped her hands together excitedly, "A muggle station!"

"Dad's got to her," said Ron sorrowfully, "she's as mad as he is."

"Yeah, thanks Ron!" called Ginny over her shoulder, apparently hearing his mutterings.

"Seven forty-five?" asked Harry, checking his watch, "time for potions."

They all trudged out and walked down to the dungeons. Snape greeted them with a frown and a snide remark, before setting them to work, each to a cauldron as they brewed their own separate potions. Harry was still sniggering to himself quietly every time he remembered to look on Cho's face as Catalina babbled away to her in Chinese, he wished he could have heard her reply.

"What are you laughing at?" asked Ron as he chopped up the black roots of a plant.

So Harry launched into re-telling the story of Catalina and Cho's meeting, as she glared at him. He couldn't help it though, it was just too funny.

"And she said, 'about eighteen years…I'm from Norfolk!'" said Harry, before laughing loudly again.

Everyone joined in and to Harry's disbelief he thought he heard Snape give a small laugh, before it turned into a cough and he realised he must have misheard. Catalina slapped Harry on the head with her wooden stirring spoon, which he rubbed as he laughed - though quieter this time. 

"Laugh all you want Hah-ray," said Catalina with a smirk, "but I bet I didn't seem half as embarrassed speaking to her as you did!"

Ron laughed uproariously to this and Hermione tried, unsuccessfully, to hide her laughter behind her hand. Harry glared at Catalina who merely smiled back angelically.

"Yeah, Thanks Cat-lina," he said sarcastically.

"No problem," she replied sweetly, "all's fair in love and war."

"Get back to your work please," came Snape's voice from his high desk, and the four of them grumbled quietly and got on with it.

"You seem to have a thing for foreigners Harry," said Ron in an undertone.

All three at them laughed at this, Catalina blushing red, but not as much as him as he concentrated on stirring the potion. He promised himself he would seriously _injure _Ron next time he got him alone. 

"Or maybe it's just the Chinese?" added Hermione with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, if you've all finished embarrassing me?" asked Harry irritably, "you're forgetting I have enough gossip about _you _two to last a lifetime!"

That shut them up sufficiently.

"What like?" asked Catalina a few minutes later, obviously looking forward to a bit of gossip about the other two. 

"Well," he said with relish, "I _could _tell you about our Fourth year Yule Ball. Ron asked this girl who was part Veela to go with him right -"

"Harry," Ron cautioned.

"And she just flatly refused right?" continued Harry while Hermione sniggered, "so we were back in the Common Room commiserating each other on not getting dates-"

"Because Cho turned Harry down," added Ron, feeling like getting his own back on his friend.

"Yeah thanks mate," said Harry with a sarcastic smirk as Catalina began to laugh, "well anyway, Hermione walks in right, and Ron goes 'Hey Neville's right, you _are _a girl.' That's because Neville asked Hermione first you see. Anyway to cut a long story short, Hermione went mental…"

"I did not go mental!" said Hermione indignantly, "it was _afterwards _and that was only because he accused me of _fraternising with the enemy_."

"Why?" asked Catalina, laughing at the three, "didn't you go together?"

"No," laughed Harry, "Hermione went with Viktor Krum, you know the Bulgarian national Seeker? Ron was dead jealous…"

"I was not!" muttered Ron angrily, his spoon clanking into the side of the cauldron loudly, "he could have been getting information to beat you in the tasks…"

"Yeah right, that's what _you _said," muttered Harry.

"Well-"

"Shut up and get on with your work, I don't want to have to tell you again."

Harry glared across to their potion's master, who was still sat at his desk, looking down on them with a smirk. They all continued their work in silence, whilst Catalina laughed quietly to herself at the others. After a while Harry's potion was nearly ready, and Hermione was approaching that way. He went and retrieved his wooden box that would eventually contain the shatter proof glass vials. 

"Are they having a Ball this year?" Catalina suddenly asked as she held Harry's vial steady as he ladled it in. 

"Dunno," shrugged Harry, "Hermione?"

"I _think _so," she said as she looked at the ceiling for inspiration, "It'd be strange if they didn't, after they have the last two years…but then again it wasn't in the yearly letter."

"Thank God," muttered Ron, "they're more bother than there worth."

"Amen to that," laughed Harry as the girls rolled their eyes half-heartedly, "but then again, I'll quite miss it, it was good last year."

"Well if you're so eager to get ya funk on, you won't have to wait long," said Catalina happily as she ran a finger down the list of ingredients in her potion. 

"And why's that?" asked Harry suspiciously.

"_Get your funk on_?" asked Ron despairingly, "what are you, American?"

"A year of me is," said Catalina, before glancing over to Harry, "because, you remember how the students at Grimbit's are free to wander around the town the schools in, as long as they're back in before curfew? Well apparently there's a night-club in the town everyone goes to of a Saturday night."

"What?" asked Harry incredulously, "No way!"

"Yes way," she said in a mock-serious voice.

"How do you know that?" asked Hermione.

"_Because_, unlike _some _people, I read the file I was given about the place," she said as Harry poked his tongue out at her childishly.

"Do we get a night-club?" asked Ron, looking put out, while Hermione shook her head morosely.

"Well think about this," said Catalina, leaning in conspirationally as everyone followed suit, "what a perfect way to get people to spill the beans? Just get them happy, get them drunk, et voila! Instant secret spilling!"

"Catalina!" said Hermione, looking shocked at Catalina's plan, whole Ron merely chuckled appreciatively, "you're underage!"

Harry however was grinning broadly as he watched Catalina raise an arched eyebrow at him in an uncharacteristically wicked way. Harry wondered what she'd look like drunk - she'd probably go around babbling to other foreigners in an attempt to find friends. He had also decided why her symbol on their protection shield was a cat, she definitely had a feline quality about her.

"So what if it is?" she said, shrugging her shoulders, "I think it'd be fun."

Hermione looked positively scandalised by this, as if she'd never suspected Catalina of having such wicked thoughts. 

"And besides," she said with an even wider smirk, "we can just get the second most fanciable wizard in Britain to ply the feminine population with his wit and so-called charm. They'll be spilling their little secrets in no time."

Harry nearly choked at this, and Ron laughed uproariously, as if it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard in his life. Hermione was shaking with silent laughter and Harry heard a choking noise behind him, he whipped around quickly to see Snape looking red in the face, and coughing in an overly fake way.

Harry tried to snap himself out of the horror of the situation - had he really just caught Snape in the act of _laughing_? First a smiling Malfoy, now a laughing Snape…the world was becoming seriously unbalanced. He turned back to the table in a daze to see Catalina grinning at him broadly, truly looking like the cat who got the cream. 

"What?" she asked innocently.

He merely shook his head in amazement, succumbing to the infectious laughter of the others and chortling along. 

****

AN/ Just like you to know Catalina doesn't _always _mope, lol. So there we go, hope you like the new faster way of updating, I promise something will happen soon.

By the way, I got my accommodation for my university! So now I have somewhere to live too! Now all I need is money and rent and I'm there…suggestions?


	19. Veela Blood

****

~*~*~ Chapter Eighteen ~*~*~

Veela Blood

The next few days passed in a blur of lessons and after school classes and meetings. Harry began to notice a rumour had spread through the school about the possibility of transfers to foreign schools. He'd asked Hermione and she'd informed him that Dumbledore was probably creating a smoke-screen for their disappearance, which wouldn't go unnoticed. It made sense, and as the days wore on, more people were talking about it, how they'd had interviews with teachers, how they'd asked to go to this country or another. He saw notices up in the common room when it became official.

So Harry and Hermione began to talk casually with other Gryffindor's about how they might think about entering. Everyone expected Hermione to enter, so it came as no surprise, and most people could see why Harry was doing it as well. Many of them were outrightly overjoyed to hear the news that Catalina was applying as well, something that had already caused Harry another few scuffles over. He was sick and tired of even the Gryffindor's getting her down.

They had their last few lessons with Professor Figg, who would be leaving on the Friday night, to be replaced by none-other that Lu Tze, who Harry was looking forward to seeing again. In between Snape's brewing sessions, his normal classes and homework, Catalina was also secretly giving him training for his Magus powers. Nothing big or showy, just finding a quiet corner of the Library or an empty classroom where he could practise. She had moved away from Lu Tze's style of teaching the rudimentary stuff, and now she was teaching him spells now - which were harder than he'd bargained for. 

Harry also got down to the Quidditch team. Since he was basically captain by default, he posted a notice for a Quidditch meeting and practise on the Wednesday night, which went well considering. It was basically a whole new team, bar himself, who would miss their first game against Hufflepuff in October. Harry noticed there was a lot of tension between Catalina and the other Chasers, and in particular with Ginny for some bizarre reason, though Ron didn't seem to notice anything from his position at the goals. However everyone flew well and Harry immensely enjoyed his flight.

When he sent everyone in, Catalina helped him put away the balls as they chatted about meaningless stuff. They seemed to spend a lot more time together this year, a reason mostly due to the fact that Hermione and Ron seemed to spend a lot more time together now. They always did their work together now, and although Harry never once felt left out, he had definitely noticed the subtle split in the two camps. It was Poland versus France now. 

"We ought to do some more studying into Poland before we go," Catalina told him, sitting on the lid of the trunk of Quidditch equipment.

"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing," he said sitting down next to her, "I haven't even read through the pack yet."

"Well, if we ever find a spare minute, we'll do some revision," she laughed, looking up at the now dark sky, that was clear and crisp, "and practise our language spells."

"Forgot about those," he nodded sheepishly, "the whole school seems to be talking about the transfers now, Dumbledore's doing a good job of keeping everyone believing."

"Yeah, I feel sorry for those that have applied though. Getting their hopes up for them to just be quashed without a thought."

"Trust you to worry about everyone else when we're off doing the 007 thing," laughed Harry.

"007?" she asked, frowning in confusion, "let me guess, muggle thing?"

"Yup."

Harry breathed in the cold air, relishing the way it smelled so clean and fresh, made his lungs feel alive. It was the time of the year where winter was approaching, but it was still warm enough to be outside without getting chronic shivers. Catalina followed suit, smiling up at the stars as if they were sharing a secret.

"It's nice out here tonight," Harry said conversationally, to fill up the gap.

"Yeah, makes you feel alive huh?" she said, flexing her fingers and grabbing out, as if she expected to catch hold of what was making the night so nice, "it's feels good to be outside. I was so sick of being cooped up in that hospital I couldn't wait to get out. I think I must have put so much weight on, just sitting around getting no exercise."

"You look fine to me," he said, watching her as she climbed to her feet and hugged the night.

She gave a slight laugh, then looked across to him challengingly, "fancy a run?"

"Ugh…too tired…too lazy," he protested, while she bounced up and down on the balls of her feet.

"Aw come on," she pleaded, "get some air back into your lungs, work up a sweat, do something than exercise your writing hand and mouth!"

"Fine, fine," he grumbled half-heartedly, climbing to his feet, "but I don't want to leave you behind…"

"Yeah right," she laughed.

So they locked their brooms inside the trunk, and set off for the Quidditch field at a leisurely pace. They spent the first few minutes testing each other on sprint starts, then on trying to beat each other past certain markers. In the end though, they ended up just doing circuits, feet taking over as their brains slowed down.

"I like running," she said simply, as they wove in and out the goalposts of the far end of the pitch.

"Wow, what a statement," laughed Harry, "is that all you've got to say or is there more?"

"I _really _like running?" she answered, smirking.

Harry laughed and they slowed down slightly, running the oval circumference of the Quidditch pitch at a slower pace.

"You think we can play when we go to Grimbits?" asked Harry eventually.

"Probably not, but it's only two months, then we'll be back," she replied, "I'm more worried about whether people will recognise us."

"I didn't think about that," answered Harry, "I suppose we could just change our names, I'm sure they don't know us over there."

"Yeah, and if that doesn't work, we'll just have to disguise ourselves. I'm picturing you with brown hair and eyes…and we'll get rid of your scar too, if you want of course."

"You can't," said Harry blankly, "can you?"

"Oh yeah, just a concealment charm…Lavender and Parvati use it all the time on their spots. Short term solution I know, but it'll work in the mean time," she shrugged, almost slowing down to walking pace now. 

"Cool," said Harry appreciatively, he wondered what he'd look like with out his scar, "well if I have to change my hair and eyes, then so do you. Ever thought about being a redhead?"

"They'll think I'm a Weasley," laughed Catalina, "I don't know about that. I don't think I'll be recognised…maybe I'll just change my eye colour though - blue or something."

Harry nodded and slowed down as well, his limbs were really aching now and they both walked the rest of the way. 

"You know, I forgot to tell you this, but Hermione was speaking to me about you last night," he said conversationally, "she was giving me a lecture on the perils of underage drinking and asked me to recite it to you, as a purely coincidental thing you understand."

Catalina laughed loudly at this, "Good old Hermione, God love her but she is a bit of a prude sometimes…"

"It's just her style," said Harry, but agreeing nonetheless, "so do you want to hear my well-learned lecture on reasons why you shouldn't get drunk in Poland?"

"Nah, I can't be bothered to have my ear talked off," she said with a grin, "maybe you could just paraphrase it for me?"

"Ok, the general gist of it I think was 'Drinking = bad. Don't do it'," said Harry, trying to keep a serious face.

"Aw," said Catalina, giving him a sidelong look, "so I suppose you're going to prise every glass from my grip are you?"

"Hell no," laughed Harry, "I'll be joining you. I just promised Hermione that so I wouldn't get my own ear bent."

Catalina laughed loudly to this, and Harry chuckled along, remembering Hermione's wide eyed, worried face as she expressly told Harry not to let Catalina get drunk, or even let a glass past her lips. As if Harry was really going to pass up the chance to go out clubbing and get drunk to stay in a foreign castle while everyone else was off having fun? Anyway, didn't they deserve to do something a little bit normal for a change?

"You ever been drunk?" she asked as they approached the trunk.

"Can you imagine the Dursleys ever letting me sneak a drink from them?" asked Harry, "and have you seen the percentage on butterbeer here? So in short no. You?"

"Once," she shrugged, looking embarrassed at the memory, "it was in my third year, at Salem. One of the girls from my house stole a bottle of the teachers Firewater…it was hysterical. Well it was until we started to play truth or dare. That is _not _a good game to play whilst drunk."

"Ah shit," nodded Harry knowingly, "I can imagine. So what did you end up doing or admitting too?"

"Nothing," she laughed, clearly lying, "but even if I did, it's between me, the drink and the llama."

Harry stared at her for a few seconds, "llama?"

She nodded at him seriously and he gaped at her. She suddenly creased up with laughter, "Kidding, _kidding_!"

"You're mental," he laughed appreciatively. 

"And proud," she said, picking up one handle of the trunk, "ready to go?"

He grabbed the other end and soon they were on their way, the direction of the conversation winding through a serious of improbable, yet humorous topics. Thanks to the new common room, there was now a later curfew on roaming the corridors, so they didn't get into trouble for being out at night. 

"I'm looking forward to going out though," she said as they approached the Fat Lady, "and not just for the drinking. Don't you think it's be nice to do something normal (shock horror) for a change?"

"Definitely," he said, as he gave the password, "Although you remember my dancing skills - I may have sit out of that bit of the evening."

"Yeah right, I'm not gonna let you sit in the corner, quietly rocking and muttering to yourself clutching a drink," she snickered

Harry gave her a surprised look and burst out laughing as they walked across the common room. They found Hermione and Ron sitting at the table in front of the fire. All of Hermione's homework was lying in neat, orderly piles and quite obviously finished, whilst Ron battled away with Divination. 

Harry sat down on the sofa and Ron merely turned a baleful glance towards him.

"You smell," he said simply.

"Thanks Ron, nothing like the brutal honesty of a friend…" said Harry, wiping the grime off his face with his sleeve, "I'm hitting the showers in a sec."

"Yeah I think I will too," said Catalina, pulling the sleeve of her robes down, "I'm sensing a definite animal farm odour developing."

They headed their separate ways and Harry had a quick shower, getting washed and dressed and back in the common room to do his own homework, which was so far looking depressingly meagre. He was discussing divination with Ron, trying quite unsuccessfully to commit the different tarot cards to memory when Catalina came down from her own shower, spreading her Care of Magical Creatures swamp dragon project across the table. 

She was towel drying her hair as she sat cross-legged on the sofa, a book on dragons lying open on her lap. She had told Harry she was doing an extra bit of her project on the similarities of the swamp dragons and the normal ones, as well as illnesses and handling techniques. She was getting right into the project that Harry himself hadn't put that much effort into yet.

"Ok, how about this one?" asked Harry, holding up a card to Ron.

"Erm…Lady fate?" he asked hopefully.

Harry had to consult his own book to check whether this was right, which it wasn't. He thought maybe he ought to do some studying in this department himself. However, he was side-tracked from his own essay writing by watching Catalina. She had a small bottle in her hand, out of which she tipped a clear, sweet smelling oil. He watched her curiously as she rubbed it between her fingers and spread it through her hair, working in complete auto-pilot as she read her book, looking fascinated. 

Harry could smell flowers. Whatever the oil was it smelt exactly like the big posh garden centres he had been dragged around of as a child by the Dursleys whenever Professor Figg was away visiting friends or relatives. When she had finished with the flower oil, she immediately began to braid her hair into a long straight plait. Harry couldn't understand how she knew where to put each bit of hair, even when she wasn't concentrating. 

She reached the bottom of her page, then looked around in frustration as her oil covered hands where currently tied up in the mass of waist length hair. Harry leant forward and flipped over the page, to which she gave a startled, if not happy smile, and went back to her reading. Harry caught Hermione watching him, with a secret smile playing across her lips.

"What?" asked Harry.

"Oh nothing," she replied airily, "how was Quidditch?"

"Fine," he replied slightly defiantly, "thank you for asking."

Hermione grinned and looked over to Catalina, who had now finished her long plait and had secured it with a transfigured bobble. 

"Hey, nice hair Catalina," she said suddenly, "what's the oil?"

"Jasmine," she replied, placing the vial on the desk.

"Special occasion?" asked Hermione, catching Ron's eye with a grin. 

"Yes as a matter of fact it is," she said, still reading her book, "its Diwali tomorrow, Festival of Light. I just thought I ought to celebrate."

"Diwali? What countries that from?" asked Hermione eagerly.

"India, my mama lived there for _five _years - did you know that?" she asked, shaking her head disbelievingly, "she always made us celebrate their holidays. Feels a bit hypocritical really, when it's religious…but it makes her happy."

Harry nodded appreciatively. She certainly did look Indian now, with her hair as slicked down like that and sat meditation style on the couch. All she need was a tan and a sari and she'd be there. 

"Have you heard from her lately?" asked Hermione, slightly tentatively.

Catalina shrugged, focusing on her book so intently he was sure she wasn't really concentrating. Hermione shared an uneasy look with Harry. He knew exactly how she felt, Catalina hadn't spoken about her mum for a long time, and to the best of his knowledge she was still in hospital. This had worried Harry when he remembered, she'd been there for a _long _time now.

"The doctor writes to me," she said a while later.

"And what does he say?" she asked her, looking fearful.

"She's stable."

But Harry could hear the real meaning behind her words - she didn't mean she was stable in the good sense. She meant it in the sense that she hadn't changed - she was ill and had managed to not change from the position. Harry and Hermione shared another look, shaking their heads, not knowing what to say.

"She'll get better though," said Catalina a while later in a voice that sounded like very forced calmness.

"Of course she will," said Hermione with a firm nod of her head.

Harry wasn't too sure. Yet he didn't say anything, what was there to say when you knew that someone was ill, _really _ill?

"What do they thinks wrong with her?" continued Hermione, glancing at the other briefly as if for back-up or something. 

"How should I know?" she said shortly.

Hermione looked slightly taken aback by her tone, and she gave Ron and pointed look.

"So, do you get to do anything special tomorrow?" he asked hastily, trying to turn the conversation, "like presents?"

"No," she said, smiling again as if the previous conversation had passed by, already forgotten, "we used to just light as many candles as we can, and leave all the lights on all day - hence the name."

"How are you gonna do that then?" asked Harry 

"Dunno," she grinned, "maybe I'll have to leave my wand lit in my pocket."

Harry snickered. Catalina seemed a lot better today. Snape had given her a new potion and he'd (surreptitiously) watched her at breakfast and noticed that she ate the most he'd seen since she got out of hospital (which still wasn't enough). It was the same at lunch and dinner and she didn't seem half as effected by the whispering masses as she was yesterday. In fact, she had an unusually sunny disposition all day, which Harry remembered from a very much younger and different Catalina.

"You know, that slicked hair like that looks just like a snake," said Hermione, picking up Catalina's long black plait and wiggling it in her face.

"Ew, get off!" screeched Catalina, laughing as Hermione tickled her face, or at least that's what Harry thought she said.

"There you go with the Parseltongue again," laughed Hermione, wiggling the hair a bit more for fun.

Catalina just gave a grin and shrugged and tugged her plait out of Hermione's hands. It seems her good mood even stretched to sensitive subjects like that today. He tested Ron a little bit more on the divination cards, but they both seemed to be failing magnificently, so in the end they gave up. Ron was looking even more gloomy than usual when faced with the prospect of his homework.

"I foresee bad times ahead in divination," he sighed, throwing his cards into his bag.

*

Her trembling fingers prised open the seal on the red envelope, and slipped out the parchment. She took a deep breath before flipping it open.

__

I'm tired of watching, when can we meet again?

With a terrified gasp she stuffed the letter back into the envelope and pushed it deep inside her trunk, out of sight but never out of mind.

*

The last day of the school week was a long one. First thing Herbology, then Divination and Potion's. Two of them were with the Slytherin's, and Malfoy was really beginning to push his luck. Harry had to keep reminding him of Professor Sprout's reprimands to stop him from launching another punch at the smirking, ferret boy. 

However, they relished the weekend, as some kind of release from the busiest first week they'd ever had. Catalina, Harry, Ron and Hermione had finished their lessons and gone straight to the library - they'd booked off this time for some research into their schools. They'd unremarkably split into their two groups, and Harry was slouched on one window sill while Catalina was climbing the ladder to a high shelf for a book.

He looked out of the window onto the grounds and saw Hagrid's hut in the failing light. He was outside, taking Fang for a walk, stopping to check on all of the Swamp dragon's before carrying on. Harry wondered vaguely if he ever met the giants in the end, and whether he'd managed to do any good. He however tried to focus, Catalina was trying to teach him some words and phrases.

"Ok, yes is tak, no is nie," came her voice from the gloomy recesses of the top shelf.

"tak, nie," he nodded, squinting at Hagrid's form through the dark.

"Thanks you is dzienkuje," she said.

"Jen-koi-ya," he said, frowning, at least some French _sounded _English.

"Near enough," she laughed, climbing down the small step ladder, "what's dzien' dobry?"

"Erm…goodbye?" he guessed after a few moments of unfocussed thoughts rambling through his head.

"You're not listening to what I'm saying are you?" she asked as he continued to stare out of the window.

"I am," he said vaguely, craning his neck as he watched Hagrid enter the forest - why was he going in there?

"I'm thinking of dying my hair purple."

"Are you?" he asked, twisting fully in his seat now and staring at the woods intently.

"I think I may have fallen in love with Draco Malfoy."

"Really…" said Harry noncommittally, before he swivelled around in his seat, "WHAT?"

"Thank you," she laughed, pointing to her eyes, "con-cen-trate."

"I am," he said indignantly, "you don't really love Malfoy do you?"

"Yes, we're eloping to Las Vagas in secret next week to get married in the Little Chapel of Love," she said with a serious face.

"Wh-?" he said indistinctly, before his brain fully returned to this conversation, "oh, you're joking…phew."

"Back in the land of the living?" she asked, "I know you're only a visitor but how do you like earth?"

Harry rolled his eyes and shifted along the sill as she climbed up, and leant against the wall opposite. She pulled open the book on her lap and tried to find her place. Meanwhile Harry had a look outside again wondering again where Hagrid was going. Maybe he was visiting Aragog? The thought made him shudder, and he tried to think of nicer things that might be in the forest. Unicorns, they were ok, and the Centaurs. Harry wondered if Bane and Firenze were still in there.

"Harry!" sighed Catalina, clicking her fingers in front of his face and saw something foreign in an irritated tone, "come on already! I'm hungry and have tons of homework, so lets get this done so we can go to dinner."

"Right, sorry," he said, turning to face her properly this time, "I am fully concentrating on _everything _you say from now on."

"Good," she said, looking down to her book, "shall I just read you the entry in this book?

"Yeah, go ahead," he said, leaning back and getting comfy for the long haul.

"_Poland's school of magic, Grimbit's, is one of the oldest of all magical schools in the Northern Hemisphere, rumoured to have been started almost 1500 years ago. It is built on the site of the house where the founding father, Gwidon Grimbit was born and raised_."

"_Grimbit is said to have been one of the most powerful wizards of all time. He is attributed to many major acts of sorcery that have become the stuff of legends in the country. Upon his death he was entombed in a secret location, as rumours had begun that his bones held mystical properties. Local legend states that his body mysteriously disappeared when his son, Grzegorz went to visit the location three days later and found it empty. It was never found_."

"They think someone stole his body?" asked Harry looking shocked, "but why?"

"I suppose someone wanted a bit of his power," she said, "either that, or Grimbit got up and walked off by himself - maybe he wasn't dead."

"Spooky," said Harry, "what else does it say?"

"Ok, listen to this," whispered Catalina as Harry leaned forward eagerly, "_As well as being one of the oldest Magical schools, it is also the smallest. Grimbit's is home to only 400 pupils and it still picks students of only direct wizarding descendant…_"

"It doesn't take muggle-borns?" asked Harry in surprise, "just like Durmstrang?"

"No…it seems to have very strict rules as well - apart from the curfew strangely. The students are given one meal a day in the evening, any other must be cooked by the students themselves in the kitchens of their houses. There are only two school houses as we know them, and students live in two living quarters, a floor for each year."

"Ok…" nodded Harry, "so we've our own kitchens then?"

"Seems so. They give you an incredibly loose rein on some things I feel. Letting you wander off on your own and feed yourself…" she said, before brightening up, "this is going to be quite cool I think."

"Yeah," said Harry appreciatively, "anything else to add?"

"Tak, listen to this," she said with a faint smile, "_Grimbit's school is split into two houses, each headed by the two most prominent and pure-blooded families in Poland, the Soplica's and the Horeszko's. Typically descendants of each family go into these houses, those that are not descendants are picked based on qualities of each house and their families pledged allegiance."_

"So…" said Harry slowly, "it's like having Godric Gryffindor and Salazaar Slytherin's family here at Hogwarts to pick which house you go into?"

"Yeah," she said, grinning mischievously, "maybe they should scrap the Sorting Hat and ask _me _to pick the Gryffindor's."

"Forgot about that," laughed Harry, "I'll have to start calling you Catalina Gryffindor…doesn't have quite the same ring to it though."

"Well it's preferable to my own," she said, "ok, it goes on_. The Polish version of the Ministry of Magic is the Duma. Here the two patriarchs of the school houses battle out in elections to run the country, with their own teams of advisors_. So, it sounds like these two families basically running the school and the country."

"That's a little bit like a dictatorship don't you think?" he asked with a frown.

"Yeah. There's a lot of hostility between the two families as well - a lot like Slytherin and Gryffindor. But there doesn't seem to be any kind of sway towards the dark side in the houses though, not like here. The current families there have five children each in their houses, all in different years, and it seems the Soplica'sare in power at the moment, but only just. The country is almost in the throes of a civil war, the whole place is being divided by the two families, and its getting worse apparently."

Harry sat back for a second and tried to process the information. It seemed strange to think of only having two school houses, and that their descendants were still going strong. None of Hogwarts had survived barring Catalina, her father and Voldemort of course. Just as she was about to continue they heard a sudden and violent thump against the bookcase next to them, which swayed slightly. Harry raised a curious eyebrow up at her, and they both slid off the sill silently, they walked cautiously towards the end of bookcase, and slipped their wands out, slightly needlessly, as they were both Magus's. 

Slightly hesitantly they both peered around the bookshelf, eyes immediately clapping on the source of the noise. It must have been comical to see Catalina and Harry's reaction - their mouths' dropped open and they both nearly dropped their wands in shock. It was Ron and Hermione and they were…they were…

"_Oh_. My. God," said Catalina blankly, "do…do you see…?"

"I see…" whispered Harry, "but I _don't_ believe…"

Harry couldn't help but stare. Hermione had her back pressed up against the bookshelf, obviously the source of the noise, and was being helpfully propped up by Ron. They were obviously studying very hard thought Harry vaguely, watching Ron's arm snaking around her waist as he kissed her, not bothering about a little thing called air. 

I mean, Harry thought to himself wildly, I knew they'd kissed, but I'd thought it was like a peck on lips or something, not…_that_. They finally broke apart, and Harry quickly came to his senses, ducking back behind their shelf, quickly followed by Catalina.

They looked at each other blankly for a few seconds, before breaking out into wild, loud laughter. Harry just couldn't stop, in the end he had to sit on the floor, propped up by his own bookcase, as the tears streamed down his face.

"I can't…breathe," cried Catalina, holding her stomach desperately, "stitch…ow!"

"I think," said Harry breathing deeply, "I may be…blinded…"

"Forget blind," she said, wiping her own tears away with the back of her hand and calming down slightly, "I think I'm scarred for life!"

Harry shook his head, and tried to rid the horrible, horrible, terrible image from in front of his eyes. Suddenly his best friends weren't the naive, innocent people he thought they were. Though, as much as Harry had reacted to the sight, he couldn't help the very vivid image forming in his mind of _him_ maybe doing that one day, and no prizes for guessing who with.

"Who knew Ron had it in him?" she asked him, giggling again behind her hand, "he handles her like a pro."

"Oh, god, now I _am _scarred," groaned Harry, "please stop. I do not want to know how my best friends handle each other."

She snickered, and listened intently to the noise of the library.

"I don't think they've stopped," she said, firmly shutting her lips to stop laughing.

"This is so unfair," moaned Harry half-heartedly, "We have to sit here revising, while their off having fun. Well I vote we ditch work too."

He suddenly realised what he'd said, completely unintentionally. He didn't mean it like _that_, he just meant, stop working…Catalina however gave him a wide-eyed look and hastily climbed to her feet. Harry blushed dark red and busied himself standing up and brushing down his robe, cringing in the awkward silence.

She walked across to the opposite side of the bookcase Hermione and Ron were on and leaned her head against it. He mentally kicked himself, cringed and wished for a gaping chasm to open right underneath his feet and swallow him up whole. 

"They _have _stopped," she whispered, completely ignoring whatever had gone before, "wait, they're coming round!"

"Quick!"

Harry ran across to their windowsill as they both hastily climbed up and tried to look as if they were working. The only just got into their seats when the two rounded the corner, and Harry held a book over his face so they couldn't see him cracking up with laughter again. He looked over the top to see Catalina doing the same, forgetting the last few minutes of awkwardness and silently shaking with laughter herself. 

"Found out anything interesting?" asked Ron when they stopped in front of the two.

"Yeah," squeaked Catalina, before sniggering slightly into her book. 

Harry closed his eyes and desperately bit his lip - don't laugh, don't laugh, he chanted to himself, don't laugh…

"Yeah, we've managed to get some work done too," said Hermione.

"I'll bet you have," spluttered Harry, squashing the book into his face to try and stop the laughter.

They were failing miserably and Harry could feel Catalina squirming on the ledge, trying not to give away how hysterical she was.

"You'll read the book better Harry if it's _this _way up," said Hermione, pulling the book out of his hands and flipping it over.

Harry tried _very _hard not to look as if he was about to burst out into a gale of laughter, but at the sight of Hermione and Ron standing next to each other grinning slightly foolishly was too much for him.

"Catalina!" he cried, "haven't we got that thing to go to? Right now like? Remember!"

"Oh yeah," she said cottoning on, "lets go! Quickly!"

They ran for it, leaving Ron and Hermione standing in one of the secluded library stacks feeling immensely bewildered and worried about their friends' sanity. Harry and Catalina pounded down the corridors, laughing wildly all the way to the Tower. They flopped on the sofas and finally calmed down sufficiently to hold regular conversation again. 

"Lets never speak of this again," she said solemnly, pulling her tie off.

"Deal," said Harry, shaking his head as he pulled his loosened his own, "I'm going to get changed before dinner I think. Meet you in a minute?"

"Sure," she said climbing to her own feet, "if I'm not down here in half and hour, you'll know I've died of over exposure to pornography."

Harry laughed himself silly all the way up to his dorm at that statement. 

*

Catalina had taken her hair out of the plait it had been in for the past few days before she went down to dinner. Because it had been bound together for so long, it had gone all wavy, and in her opinion looking _really _stupid. But, she didn't have time for a shower, because Harry was waiting for her to go down to dinner.

She took off her Hogwarts uniform and pulled on a pair of one of her unmemorable cousins baggy trousers. She could have got two legs into one of these trousers ones, but she figured it must be some kind of muggle thing. She'd have to remember to thank whoever it was for giving it to her, all she had as a recollection of her family was that they were Irish, just like her mum, and had black hair and brown or green eyes. She'd probably remember their names in time - if she felt like it that was.

She adjusted the bandage that was tied over her one elbow with a frown. She had taken to wearing it constantly now. Even when the Dark Mark didn't show she swore she could see it there, and she couldn't stand the idea that it might appear when she was wearing a short sleeved top. What would everyone say? What would Harry think? She knew that they understood it was out of her choice, but it was still a very painful, blatant reminder of her past. Before she came to Hogwarts she'd thrown out all her small tops, and had with her now a supply of long sleeved shirts, jumpers and tops to wear.

She picked a blue shirt and put it on, buttoning it up half way, and spent a long time making sure her bandage wasn't showing. She smiled happily and pulled her boots on before skipping down the stairs, clasping her book in one hand. She couldn't wait to talk to Hermione about before, she wanted to know every detail of what was happening between them. 

She was inwardly very impressed Ron had done anything, she thought they'd be in limbo for_ever_.

*

Harry heard her coming down the stairs and looked up at the doorway to see her emerge, mouth dropping open in shock. She was flipping through the pages of a small green bound book and was completely unaware of where she was walking but Harry however, saw every single step she had taken and couldn't help but stare in absolute infatuation. 

Her hair was back down, long black waves catching the light of the candles, framing her smiling face as she read a passage and walked into the common room. Instead of the usual black straight sheets it had gone curly and slightly shorter and as such had made her look so completely different. She was wearing her muggle clothes as well, baggy jeans that were just about clinging to her hips and a tight blue shirt. She bumped into the side of one couch and gave it an absentminded look before looking over to Harry with a bright smile.

"Hey Harry, didn't see you there," she said looking down at her book, as she flopped in the seat next to him.

Harry however didn't reply, he was too busy shamelessly staring at her. She looked so different - maybe it was the absence of her book bag and worries that made her seem slightly hunched during school as well as the lack of black clothing.

"Did you know that there are fourteen Polish words for snow?" she asked him absentmindedly, gazing down at her book in fascination.

Again he didn't say anything, feeling that he'd had all the air knocked out of his lungs. He suddenly realised that if he didn't already, he could fall in love with her all over again right at that moment. 

"Are Ron and Hermione back yet?" she asked, as she flipped the page over again.

Even her voice was beautiful…so exotic sounding. He liked the way she said her R's. Stupid he knew, but it made him grin ever time she said them. And the word 'Harry', which was just a plain old name to him, but when she said it, it sounded…different. He remembered teaching her how to say it last year, as before she always used to say 'Hah ray". In fact, that was usually how she still said it, when she wasn't concentrating of course. It was as if when she spoke English, she was speaking all the other languages she knew at the same time, unconsciously lilting words when she shouldn't, over-pronouncing some words that made her sound really posh sometimes, like the Queen.

"Are they back-" she asked him again, turning to him for the first time. She gave an embarrassed laugh when she saw him staring, "what? Have I got something on my face?"

"No," he said, grinning like an absolute idiot, despite the small warning bells that were going off in his head.

She rubbed her face anyway, and tucked her legs underneath her agilely. He was still staring.

"You changed your hair…" he said in a faraway voice.

"Yeah, horrible isn't it? Its all greasy and bushy-" she began with a roll of her eyes.

"It's nice," he cut in, "really nice."

"Oh…thanks Harry," she said, looking slightly worried at his tone. 

Harry sat on his hands, no touching he coached himself. He didn't want his hand bitten off because he was acting like some lovesick idiot unable to pronounce his words properly in the face of a beautiful girl.

"Harry, you're staring," she said, with another embarrassed laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, which instantly fell back out.

"Sorry, it's just that you're-"

"Yo, yo, yo, peeps!" came Ron's yell as he walked over to their couch, making Harry jump about a mile in the air, suddenly guilty, "ready for some dinner?"

"Sure," said Catalina getting up, completely unaware Harry was about to spill his heart, "have you been watching the American movies?"

"Got it in one," laughed Ron in an overly bad American accent.

"That was terrible," cried Catalina, before putting on a southern twang, "this is how you speak American…"

"Hey, that's pretty good," nodded Ron appreciatively, "I'm gonna get changed, meet you down here in a minute?"

He went off with a spring in his step and Catalina got up and followed Hermione up to their dorm, leaving Harry on the couch, mid-sentence with a dazed look on his face. He however watched her all the way until she was out of sight, noticing for the first time she had a freckle on her lower back. Not that he was watching her baggy trousered body climb the stairs at all.

He wondered vaguely if she had any Veela blood in her.

Suddenly he snapped out of it.

"Oh, I've got to get me help," he told the empty common room, sinking into his sofa.

He swore she was doing it just to annoy him. By purposely looking beautiful whenever she was around him, as if she was trying single-handedly to do what all the Death Eaters of the world had failed to do yet - to kill him once and for all.

Because every time he saw her like this (and it was getting more and more frequent), he could feel his heart being scrunched up and spat out. It was getting harder and harder to remember the fact that Catalina didn't like him.

However, he brushed all thoughts aside as the others entered the room almost simultaneously. Catalina and Hermione were grinning broadly and Harry could tell they'd been discussing the private show they'd just been privy to earlier in the library. They walked down to the Dinner Hall which already had students coming out and Harry tried his damned near hardest not to stare. Lest he be named Hogwarts biggest perv. 

"So anyway, it seems Beauxbaton's…" Hermione was saying, launching into a full description of the Palace.

Harry glanced at Ron, ready to share a despairing look when he saw that his friend was - yes you've guessed it - staring intently at Hermione. Harry recognised the look, it was similar to his previous one. He looked at Hermione, who didn't seem to notice as she picked up her glass, and tried to figure out why Ron would prefer Hermione to Catalina. Not that he minded of course, but he just couldn't understand why any more of the Hogwarts male population weren't craning their necks to get a look. 

The meal passed quickly and they were just chatting away as they finished their drinks when Ginny walked over, her arms linked with two of her friends from her year. 

"Hey all," she said, giving a small wave, "Hermione, do you want to come to the new common room, all of the girls want to listen to the late night love hour on WWN."

Hermione gave a grin and looked over to Ron, "Coming?"

"Of course," he said, getting up. 

"Harry, you coming?" asked Ginny.

"Yeah…" he said slowly, seeming to be the only one noticing the absolute blanking of the other girl at the table, "come on Catalina, we'll see what's on t.v."

No doubt about it, a shadow definitely passed across Ginny's face at that, and she turned away pretty sharpish. He frowned deeply, first at Quidditch, and now this - was something going on he didn't know? He'd never even thought for a minute that Ron's sister would be one to believe the lies of the paper and the Hogwarts gossip.

"I'm ok actually," said Catalina with a slight glance at Ginny, "I've got loads of homework to do, you know how it is."

"You've got ages to do that," said Harry insistently, "come on."

"No, I'm sure there's-"

"Aw don't be silly Catalina," said Hermione, "its only for a hour."

"Wow, now if Hermione can drop homework for the radio, then you surely can," laughed Ron.

Harry expected her to hit the roof at the statement, but she merely laughed and playfully punched his arm. He was going to have to get used to this.

"Alright then," she said, getting up as well and hitching her trousers slightly.

"Fantastic," said Ginny with a slightly annoyed look, "lets go already yeah?"

Harry looked over to Ron, who wasn't paying attention, and shrugged it off. They all walked down to the common room, which was packed to capacity. All of the girls immediately made a beeline for the slightly crackling radio in the corner.

"See you later I guess," said Catalina, looking almost sorrowful, as she trailed after the group of girls.

Harry watched her as she slipped into the crowd of chattering girls reluctantly, arms carefully folded around her midriff.

"Fancy watching t.v?" asked Ron, looking immensely pleased with himself.

"Sure, whatever," shrugged Harry, following Ron over the room.

However, it was only an extremely bad movie, and as much as Ron protested Harry walked off. He'd seen it five times already, and it was _terrible_. They didn't know the meaning of the word 'acting'. He looked around for something else to do and caught sight of the large snooker table in the corner, currently occupied by Dean and a Ravenclaw Harry knew by sight, playing doubles with Lavender and Parvati.

Dean caught sight of them and waved his snooker cue at them, beckoning over. 

"How about I show you a better muggle games than snap or chess?" asked Harry, leading Ron over to the large green felt table. 

Ron looked over in interest and they came up to the table where Dean was with a smile at everyone.

"Mind if we watch?" asked Harry.

"Knock yourself out," said Dean, with a wide grin.

So Harry and Ron fell into the sofas and Harry explained the game. Ron was soon looking itching to try it out but as Harry noticed they were going to have to wait a long time. Not only were Lavender and Parvati supremely bad, but so it seemed were the boys. They looked to be enjoying themselves too much playing the game than to finish, and kept making absolutely ridiculous shots that Harry realised must have been fake.

He watched the ongoing charade with increasing curiosity as the doubles flirted _shamelessly_. It began with Dean trying to show Lavender how to hold the cue and aim properly, in a very Hollywood movie style way. They seemed very cosy and Lavender was giggling away, fluttering her eyelashes and generally acting supremely obvious. It was the same with the Ravenclaw and Parvati, who, every time she went to shoot, he'd bump in to her, or whispered something to her, or stare at her to put her off track.

Harry was actually enjoying watching the show, it was like a funny movie, and he smiled knowingly at Dean when he came and sat down by him during Lavender's go.

"Having fun?" he asked innocently.

"Masses, thanks mate," laughed Dean, looking very smug with himself.

"You don't seem too eager to let up the table, continued Harry, watching Parvati and the Ravenclaw siting down and talking quietly, "why could that be I suppose?"

"Shall I enlighten you?" asked Dean lowering his voice slightly as he watched Lavender search the table for the right ball to hit.

"Go on then," said Ron.

"Ok, now, I want you to watch Lavender closely as she takes this shot. Right, keep watching, any moment now…ok…_that_ gentlemen, is what I'm talking about."

Harry did what Dean told him and looked, and found that when Lavender leant over the table in a certain way…

"And all is revealed," said Dean in a vague sort of voice, "In more ways than one if you know what I mean."

Harry didn't look, somehow he'd managed to convince himself it was ok to stare at Catalina, and her freckle on her backside, but he didn't think it was very right to stare at Lavender the same way.

She however, had no idea the boys were ogling her, and carefully chose her ball. She gave it a mighty, albeit extremely bad judged smack and the balls went ricocheting around the table. To everyone's immense surprise, the black ball fell into one pocket. 

Dean looked positively horror stuck that the game was now over. 

"Looks like I win," said Lavender as she walked over to Dean, trying to look sultry.

"Shame we haven't got you a prize," said Dean with a cheeky grin.

"Well, can I chose one anyway?" asked Lavender, wide-eyed and innocent looking.

She held out her hand and Dean gratefully took it. He handed Harry the cue, "Looks like the table yours guys."

Harry and Ron watched the two couples walk off in silence and then looked at one an another. Ron looked at the snooker table, then the cue, then back at Lavender, who was climbing onto a small sofa with Dean. He suddenly filled his lungs with air and bellowed out across the common room, "HERMIONE!"

"Oh, you're not are you?" asked Harry in disbelief mingled with amusement.

"Hey, if it's ok for Dean then why not me?" asked Ron with a cheeky grin.

"What do you want?" came Hermione's voice from the group of girls.

"You want to play?" he asked her, waving the cue about - he obviously couldn't remember the name.

"We're alright here thank you!" she called back.

Harry glanced over to see that even if Hermione was ok, Catalina wasn't. She had already found herself sitting on the only empty chair for miles around (how _did _she manage to do that?), as all the other girls were craning to hear the poorly tuned radio. She was slouched deep down into the chair, absentmindedly examining her nails looking bored.

"Shame," said Ron, looking put out, "give you a game then?"

"Alright then," said Harry, getting up and joining Ron at the table, "but your not to look down my top."

"Aw shucks," said Ron in falsetto, "my dastardly plot has been foiled once again."

****

AN/ Well, how are thee my little readers and reviewers? I thought I'd just give you a little ray of sunshine in the hope that more people will read my story - long awaited action between Catalina and Harry coming up in Chapter 19!!!!

Yay!

Death's Shadow - thanks for the review! And also for the kind words over me get into University. Fingers crossed eh? Keep reading…

Dragon Tamer47 - it looks like I'll have to be an unmemorable bar maid doesn't it. Oh well, "what can I get you sir/maam?"

Esperanza1 - I missed your reviews too! Sorry for the huge delay! Unavoidable I'm afraid. But I'm making up for it now aren't I? she says worriedly

GLow1 - way back in chapter 10 I used that line…"It was quite interesting really," she said with a smile that didn't quite meet her eyes, "did you know Witch Weekly has voted you the second most fanciable wizard in England?"

"No way! Really?" he asked in a shocked voice, before turning to her looking slightly put out, "who was number one?"

Thought It would serve Harry's ego to be second lols.

goldensnitch3 - I suspect that if you live in America and I in England, it would be pretty hard for me to get a job at your mom's place. But, thanks for the job offer, I'll have to be the person in the chicken suit after all…sighs.

goldensnitch3 - You are so eloquent with your begs of "write!", "write!" and my latest favourite, "write, write, write!" I get the picture! Is this good enough for you? Lols.

Heather - Don't worry, H/C stuff coming up as I said in next chapter! It's so not long now it's almost unbearable for me to keep you in suspense! I just worry that once their together, the story will lose interest!

NasserPotter - Hmm…good idea about the Magus powers on Malfoy! And don't worry, as said before - H/C action coming up in the next chappy!

Sasinak - Ooohhh newbie! Hello there new reader. I must congratulate you for reading it all in one go. I sat down to do that the other day and got three hours in before breaking down! But please keep up the good work - love you for reviewing!

Teaser Trailor - 

"You had another fight didn't you?" asked Ron in a sing song voice.

"No," said Harry, viciously ripping his curtains together, "almost exactly the opposite!"

****

Don't know how useful that is for you out of context…oh well.


	20. Missed Opportunities

****

~*~*~ Chapter Nineteen ~*~*~

Missed Opportunities

Catalina sighed deeply and twirled a lock of hair around her finger. Hermione, for all her love of books and all things studious, seemed to love listening to the radio. Catalina liked music too, she liked to sing herself, when no one was listening, but she couldn't bring herself to flock around the receiver (like a badly performed summoning charm) which seemed to be badly affected by the surrounding magic of the school. 

She sat with a blank look on her face as she watched the world passing her by. In one corner she could see one of the girls from her dorm sitting on the lap of some other guy looking extremely caught up in her late night activities, over by the tv there were couples watching what looked like a romantic film, and all the girls in front of her were tuned into the soppiest love songs she'd ever heard. It seemed like all around her she was being constantly reminded of that fact that everyone's life was plainly moving on, while she was just sort of stuck where she was. 

She sighed again in irritation. She was fine upstairs with her book or sitting and talking to Harry, so why did she bother coming down here? She looked over to Harry, with the idea firmly in mind that she would go and ask him if he wanted to go back, when she saw the look on his face. He and Ron were playing what looked like a very complex game, and they were both talking animatedly between themselves. Harry was laughing happily and Catalina watched him, feeling sick to the stomach suddenly. She was getting so depressed she sometimes worried if she was dragging him down with her - could she remember him being truly content? The more she worried about depressing him, the more depressed she became, and the more she worried about him - it was Catch 22, and never ending spiral.

She got up from her chair, deciding she would have a quick look around the large room before heading back on her own - after all she was old enough to be by herself once in a while. She told Hermione where she was going, but she didn't hear as she and Ginny chatted away and laughed. So Catalina walked over to the t.v. and spotting an empty chair, she headed over to it. The person in the chair next to the space gave one look at her and lifted their legs up onto it, watching the film contentedly. Catalina recoiled from the open act of hostility and carried on shamefaced, trying to make it look like she was heading straight past the t.v. anyway, and it wasn't the guys fault she couldn't sit there.

She found herself walking past a large amount of sofa's, jumbled together into a large sitting area. Most of them were full with people or couples, who regarded her steadily as she traipsed past. She stopped at a small box of board games, and spent a few moments flicking through them, trying to look as nonchalant as possible as she could feel people staring at her. 

She had picked up a board game and was studying the fading picture on the front, one of a happy little family sitting around their board looking embarrassingly excited by the prospect of playing _Hungry Hippo_. She stared for a long while and the two children, a girl and a boy and was overcome by sad thoughts all of a sudden. Before she let herself dwell on this though, someone knocked into her and she dropped the box onto the floor, half out of shock from the person, and half because it had been quite a heavy knock. She let out a curse in a language from her distant past.

"Watch where your going," replied the girl who had bumped into her acidly.

"I was stood still," said Catalina, stooping down to pick up the box and pieces that were now scattered on the floor.

Out of nowhere a foot came out and kicked the board away from her fingers and Catalina looked up from her crouched position to see the girl continuing to glare down at her.

"You missed a bit," she said, kicking away another piece under a chair and walking off.

She stayed crouched on the ground for a few seconds, staring at the pieces now scattered around the room. In the end she gave a sigh of frustration and merely summoned all of the pieces back into the box with a flick of her wrist. No one noticed, but she wouldn't have cared if they had. She placed the box back onto the pile, and realised with a sinking heart that she had to pass the girl and the group of friends she was now sitting with to get out of the common room. 

She walked in between the couches they were sitting on, having to step over a number of legs that were helpfully sprawled across her path, all the time being stared at by the girls. She squared her shoulders and ignored their looks, even when they did the thing most of the population had taken to doing when she walked past - hissing quietly, and under their breath.

"Death Eater scum," came a whispered voice from behind her back, "she should be kicked out."

"Forget expelled," said another, "she ought to be back in Azkaban."

She suddenly decided enough was enough and practically ran over to where the boys were, to say goodnight.

When she got there, Harry was bent over the table and there was an air of expectancy around. Ron held up a hand for silence as she watch as he sighted along the long stick, a look of intense concentration of his face. After a while he hit a white ball, which in turn hit a black, which bounced off the sides a few times and sunk in the bottom pocket.

"And that is how you play pool," said Harry, straightening up with a smile on his face, "I won."

"This is a great game," said Ron happily, surveying the table.

Catalina looked at it as well, there was about six yellow balls on the table, and one white. Catalina didn't understand at all, but she didn't give a damn, she wanted out, ASAP. 

"Guys, I'm just going to go back, I'll see you tomorrow," she said, in a rush.

"What's a matter?" he asked, looking instantly worried which made her feel even worse.

"Nothing," she said with a bright smile that ached her jaws with its foreign feel, "just tired."

"Oh," he said happily, relief visibly washing over him, "good. Had a nice evening?"

"Great," she replied with such a sunny disposition she knew she'd instantly gone a bit too far.

"Really?" asked Harry, before shooting an annoyed look at her former companion, still huddled over the WWN and tapping it with her wand, "fancy a game? I can show you how to play?"

She gave Ron an awkward look and wrapped her arms around her bare stomach again, "no it's ok, you're playing with Ron. I have loads of work to do so…"

"Listen, it's Friday night, you've got all weekend to work!" said Harry simply, "Ron doesn't mind, do you Ron? See, ask Hermione over and we'll play doubles."

She desperately wanted to get out of the room, but she could tell Harry had made his mind up about it now, and she had no choice. Maybe it would take her mind off the memories the girls words had bought back to her.

"Oh, alright then," she said reluctantly, before heading over to the radio.

She coughed, but none of the girls turned around, so she tapped Hermione on the shoulder. She spun round and smiled at her, whereas the other girls merely spun round.

"Do you want to come and play the er…game…with me, Ron and Harry?" she asked nervously, motioning to the guys, who were sitting on the table looking as if they really wanted to play again. 

Scarily eager in fact. Ron was practically whipping up a frenzy as his arms whirled, inviting Hermione over.

"Oh all right then," said Hermione, grinning at Ron's theatrics, "Gin, give me a shout when the song comes on."

"Fine," the younger girl replied, eyeing Catalina who was looking nervous again.

Catalina and Hermione walked over, and Harry proceeded to give her a general gist of the game, Hermione helped, and even Ron seemed to know a few of the shots now. Soon they were ready to play.

"What do you think?" asked Hermione coyly, "French versus Polaks, or boys versus girls?"

"Well, I think maybe us lads should stick together," said Ron with a secret smile at Harry, "boys vs. girls."

Hermione broke the triangle of balls to begin the game, and Ron watched her every move intently. Harry had his go and Catalina stepped up for hers. She wasn't quite sure how the game was supposed to work, but mimicked the way everyone else had stood, leant over the table, squinting like idiots. She managed to miss completely, and gave Hermione and apologetic grin.

That's how most of the game went, Catalina couldn't seem to get the hang of the game at all, and it was a good job Hermione knew her angles otherwise they would have seriously been trailing. But Harry was by far the best, although none of them could imagine when Harry would have got chance to play when he was younger.

In the end the guys won and Hermione and Ron were just settling down to a quiet conversation when Ginny's voice carried across the room.

"It's on Hermione!" 

She jumped away without a word, and Ron was left looking slightly put-out. He followed after all, and Harry shook his head.

"Honestly, those two…" he smiled, "what did Hermione say?"

"Oh," giggled Catalina, sitting on the felt top of the snooker table, "she was a bit giggly, as you can imagine."

"No I can't actually," said Harry in amusement, leaning against the table next to her and surveying the 'couple'.

"Well, she said Ron started it. Apparently took her right by surprise when she was in the middle of explaining the points system of Beauxbaton's. Anyway, she said that's the longest they'd _ever_ kissed, said it was dead romantic!"

"Yuck, dead disgusting you mean," said Harry, trying not to imagine his best friends…

"Apparently, Hermione's really upset she might have damaged the book she had in her hand when she dropped it to make her hands available for other things," she said meaningfully.

"Ok," shouted Harry, clapping his hands to his ears, "enough about that!"

Catalina giggled and Harry watched in amazement as Ron sat down in the couch surrounded by girls and pulled Hermione onto his lap. She looked extremely red in the face for a few minutes and smacked him, though not very hard Harry realised, and the way she was trying to escape was looking a bit to weak for his taste.

"I think we'll leave these two to it, what do you say," said Harry pushing himself up from his position leaning against the table, "fancy going back?"

"Yes!" she said, a little too enthusiastically.

Harry merely laughed and they walked across the room. He only paused to pat Hermione's head on the way past and gave them a small wave. They entered the dark corridors, which were quite silent and began to well known track back. Catalina sighed happily, this is what she enjoyed the best - just being with her three friends. She placed a cold hand across her exposed stomach, as if trying to hold in the butterflies that were fighting for release. 

Harry didn't seem to notice her mushy thoughts and was scuffing his feet along the floor, apparently a million miles away. Catalina opened the door ahead of them with the flick of her wrist and Harry looked up and smiled.

"Looking forward to seeing Lu Tze?" he asked her, shutting the door behind them with a wave of his own hand.

"Definitely," she said with a smile, "he could give us a few lessons before we go away in three weeks, what do you think?"

"I need all the help I can get," he said dryly.

"Nonsense," she said, "you're a natural. You've picked up the basics pretty quickly, much more quickly than I did. You've just got to stop worrying about what you're doing and just do it."

Harry shrugged, not sure how to take the compliment, before reaching up and scratching his forehead. All around him he could hear their footsteps echoing off the walls and the silence was deafening for some reason. They soon reached the Fat Lady and Catalina went in first, and Harry waited for her to climb it. As she did so the gap between her shirt and low trousers became more pronounced, exposing a long, newly healed zig-zag scar.

He stared at the place he had seen it in confusion for a few seconds, before she turned around and looked at him.

"Coming?" she said with a bright smile, "or are you camping out here tonight?"

"Yeah…" he said quietly, climbing in after her, "Coming…"

She walked into the common room and Harry stared at the place where the scar would have been if her shirt weren't now covering it. Where had it come from? The hospital or Riddle Manor maybe? It looked a few months old at the most and he wondered if he should say something about it.

"Well I'm going to bed," she said, turning to him so quickly it caused her newly waved hair to fall across her face.

He laughed and pulled the hair away, so as to expose her face to the light again. But as he did he came face to face with the now very much un-smiling face of Catalina, her feline eyes watching him in fear. He dropped his hands to his sides, and took a hurried step backwards, hands quickly hiding themselves behind his back.

"Sorry," he whispered, feeling mortified by his behaviour, and her reaction.

With a shaking hand, she smoothed away the hair from her face, avoiding his eyes.

"Harry…I…" she began hesitantly.

She screwed up her face as Harry could almost feel her remembering something, something painful judging by the way she flinched every now and then. He didn't breathe…this was a fragile situation, he felt that by even moving a millimetre everything would come crashing down around him.

"I…I don't do it because of you," she said awkwardly, her eyes still screwed up tight.

He sucked a breath, feeling his heart was caught up in his throat. 

"Do what?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

She drew in a tight breath herself and looked around her for inspiration. She finally stopped and looked him dead in the eye.

"I know what it's like to hurt you," she told him, causing his heart to treble in speed and jump into his throat.

"You haven't," he told her, after a few moments.

"I have though…I know what it's like to see you…every night…in my dreams, I can see you. _Begging_ for your life with me," she choked, tears splashing down her face, "pleading with me not to hurt you…and I'm still doing it…hurting you…"

Harry couldn't speak. He had no idea about any of this and his chest was being squeezed together so tight he didn't think he could speak. Catalina looking away in frustration as the tears left long tracks down her cheeks. He just wished he could brush them away and tell her not to worry, that he was here for her.

"Catalina…that was a _long_ time ago," he said in his own strangled voice, "and don't ever think that you don't do anything except make this worthwhile."

She gave a jolt at these words and turned to him shakily. She searched his eyes, as if expecting to find out the truth from them and wiped away her tears.

"Make this worthwhile…" she repeated, still staring into his eyes.

"Every day," he said, though he had no idea why.

She gave a watery smile and choked back a slight laugh that Harry couldn't help himself returning.

"Me too," she replied, "more than you'll ever realise."

He felt a lot happier for some reason right at that moment than he had for a long moment, although he was slightly in the dark at what they were agreeing on and he had a feeling Catalina thought the same. They were both smiling at each other rather stupidly and Harry was quite glad the common room was empty.

He watched her clasp her hand together, then unclasp them, as if she was unsure of something. Before she reached forward hesitantly. Her hand was shaking slightly as she leaned forward and brushed his fringe off his forehead. He didn't understand _why_ she wanted to look at his ugly scar, but ignored the thought, this was the closest they'd been for almost a year. 

She was studying his scar closely with her amber eyes and reached forward with a pale finger. She rested it on the top of the lightning bolt and traced it smoothly to its base in a way that made Harry's spine tingle for some unknown reason. The scar now felt like it was on fire, but not from pain as he was now accustomed, but just from the inexplicable heat of her fingertip. 

Catalina dropped her eyes to his, and he saw there wasn't any fear there now. She pulled away her hand and for a long moment they just stood there, staring at each other with new found understanding. She licked her lips nervously and her eyes flicked down to his own, and with a jolt of realisation he knew what was coming.

She leaned forward hesitantly, as did Harry. He could hear his own heart thumping against his ribs and feel her breath tickling his face as they lent towards one another. But when they were only centimetres apart there was a small bang of the portrait being thrown open and the sound of voices.

Her eyes snapped open at once and she spun around quickly in a mass of black hair. She faced the other way as the fifth years trooped in, leaving Harry standing in the middle of the common room feeling almost unbearably let down by what could have been.

It had been only centimetres! Centimetres!

He looked across to those that had come in a ruined the happiest moment of his life to see Ginny and her friends walking in followed by Ron and Hermione, who were looking at each other lovingly. Why was it ok for them and not him, he wondered bitterly. That had been the closest he'd been to Catalina since he'd met her…

"What's up with you?" Hermione asked Catalina as she walked in.

Catalina, whose shoulders were firmly set, faced away from Harry, but he could tell her expression wasn't one of happiness when Hermione immediately looked guilty.

"I'm going to bed," announced Harry, spinning on his heels and bolting out of the room.

He dragged the curtains around his bed and sat motionless, staring at the quilt cover for a few moments. How could that have happened? Couldn't everyone have waited just a few more minutes? He picked up his pillow angrily and pressed his face into it, his yells of frustration helpfully muffled by the thick feathers. 

He finally threw down the pillow and got up and changed quickly as Ron entered with a happy smile on his face. He brightened up even more when he saw Harry, who threw him the dirtiest look he could muster.

"Hey, what's up with you?" asked Ron indignantly.

He merely continued to ignore Ron, whom he personally solely blamed for his disappointment.

"You haven't had another fight have you?" asked Ron despairingly.

"No," he said viciously, pulling the curtains together with a mighty wrench, "almost exactly the opposite!"

Ron mouthed a few questions but seemed to give up when he heard Harry angrily pummelling his pillow for such a long time and to such an extent that it erupted into a shower of feathers. Harry swore fiercely and Ron bit his tongue, sinking into bed praying that he would wake up in a better mood.

Harry repaired his pillow in an instant and settled down, staring at the canopy for a long time. What did this mean? Did Catalina actually like him after all, after all of the bitter thoughts he'd been having since the train ride to Hogwarts, was he wrong? She certainly didn't act like she didn't like him, she was the one who touched him this time, she was the one that wanted to kiss him. 

He wondered what he would say to her tomorrow, before wildly wondering if tonight was a one off. Was it that she was so upset she couldn't think straight, or that it had been a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity? Harry cussed the darkness and heard Ron snigger, which angered him even more. He turned over and processed his angry, confused thoughts as he fell asleep, which took a lot longer than expected.

*

Harry awoke with a heavy feeling of dread and loss in his stomach and it took him only milliseconds to place the reason for his feelings. Last night. The common room. Catalina. Oh God…

How the hell was he going to be able to look her in the face?

The feeling was so gut wrenching, so cringe inducing, so god-awful he seriously considered staying in bed for the rest of his life.

"Centimetres!" he suddenly said out loud, for no reason that he could discern for himself. 

"Awake then are we?" came Ron's voice from behind the heavy red curtain of his bed.

Again he felt a swift swoop of anger towards Ron - for no particular reason again. Maybe it was that Ron had what he wanted, and Harry didn't. Maybe it was that he was jealous of Ron, _again_. For about the millionth time since he'd met him. 

"Sounds like it, unless I've developed sleeptalking tendencies," replied Harry, not meaning to sound quite as bitter as he did. 

"Well oh-cheerful-one, time for up and out." 

He got dressed in silence and packed his bag, the feeling of leaden dread increasing with every book he slid into his satchel. He set of down the stairs behind Ron, taking his time and feeling as if every step brought him closer to what he knew was going to be, to put it mildly, one of the most embarrassing days of his life. 

And the bottom of the stairs came to quickly, so did the group of girls at the bottom, so did the pairing off of Ron and Hermione until he was left alone with Catalina in a empty common room. How did that happen he thought in mute shock, one moment he was surrounded, the next - alone. What a scary word that now seemed to be, _alone_. No one to save him from the heavy silence, that lingered past unusual, through uncomfortable and towards seriously worrying.

"Sleep well?" she finally asked, looking everywhere but at him.

"Yeah," he agreed hastily - an effective conversation stopper, "er…you?"

"Same," she said, blushing to the roots of her hair.

After a few more minutes, she gave a heavy sigh and lifted her back up.

"Well…I suppose we better get some breakfast before lessons."

"Yeah," he replied - what a collective of witty comebacks he had.

The corridors were suddenly a lot longer than he remembered and their footsteps echoed of the walls with a deafening pounding. Every time he thought of something to say his mouth would dry up, or the words would die in his throat and he would be standing their gawking, he was sure a fly was doing laps in and out unnoticed. They finally arrived at the Great Hall without another word being spoken and settled on opposite sides of the table. 

He kept half an ear on the conversation but his thoughts returned to the previous night. He could picture everything in the minutist detail, remember the way she ran her finger down his scar. He gave a sudden pleasant shudder at the memory, which snapped him out of his reverie long enough to lift a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. 

He replayed the scene in his head once again - Centimetres! Seconds even, that's all it would have taken - mere seconds extra. Just centimetres! Centimetres…centimetres… 

"What's that Harry?" asked Ron suddenly, looking at his friend in concern.

"What's what?" he asked innocently.

"You were muttering something to yourself," explained Ron, who suddenly seemed to notice the tension in the air.

"I wasn't," lied Harry, reaching forward to the bread rolls and stuffing one in his mouth before Ron could ask any more questions or before his voice box disobeyed him again.

Again he slipped back into a reverie, trying to remember what they were talking about before, he was pretty sure it was all coded to mean she _did _like him, but how could he be sure? It sounded that way anyway he consoled himself. He shook his head and rejoined the land of the living and risked a glance at her. Big mistake. She was staring at him in a slightly vague way, eyes lingering on his scar. She suddenly realised he was looking at her before she gave the most mortified look and dived underneath the table into her bag under the pretext of looking for something. When she emerged her usually chalk white face was bight red, nearly as red, suspected Harry, as his own.

"I have to go," she said hastily, clambering to her feet and practically flying to the doors before anyone got a word in edgeways.

For some reason this caused Hermione to throw him a dirty look and set off after her. After a few moments Ron turned to him with an expression of weariness. 

"You had a fight didn't you?" he asked in a sing song voice.

"Who with, Hermione?" asked Harry blankly.

"No _Catalina_," said Ron rolling his eyes, "…well?"

"No…no I haven't."

"Yeah right, like I believe that. What did you do this time, get drop kicked for tucking her hair behind her ears?"

Ron was only teasing but Harry felt he might have had a glimmer of truth in his statement - well maybe. Now that she had (almost) kissed him, did that mean he didn't have to get the electric shock treatment every time he touched her?

"Harry?" pressed Ron again.

"What? Oh no, nothing like that," he answered vaguely, to lost in this wonderful image of a shock free day to pay attention.

"Man, you got it bad," he exclaimed, studying his best friends face for the first time and seeing a marked difference in the way he looked for some reason.

"I haven't," said Harry defiantly, still on his mission to convince himself along with everyone else.

"Why don't you just admit it, maybe it would make you feel better," suggested Ron as he chewed on his sausage.

"Fine. Right. Ok then. I will admit it. I do," he said, feeling recklessly stupid, "I do like her, there, happy?"

"Ecstatic," said Ron dryly, "nothing would make me feel happier than to know that you'd actually _do something about it_ though."

"I _tried_," said Harry in exasperation.

"What really?" asked Ron, side-tracked by Harry's sudden ability to sort out his own love life. 

"Yes," he sighed, "last night."

"And your mission was a complete…success/failure/hideous bowl of dragon dung - delete as appropriate?"

Harry made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat and sat back on his chair, Ron seemed to guess the outcome of the evening and fixed him with a sympathetic look.

"She didn't want to," he stated sadly, shaking his head in a morose way that reminded Harry of a dodgy plumber.

"Oh no that wasn't the problem," said Harry, turning red at the memory, "she _did_. Its just you bunch of fecking little eejits came back early _didn't you_? I mean seconds would have done, I'd have preferred minutes obviously - but I mean centimetres! Centimetres!"

Ron gave a long whistle between his teeth and sat back on his chair. He was secretly quite impressed - earlier that day Catalina would have sizzled out his brains if he'd even thought of touching her, but that evening they were on the brink of their first kiss? He suddenly understood why Harry was so annoyed at him and Hermione - how frustrating - after over a year knowing each other and they had to pick the worst possible timing to go back.

"That's too bad mate," said Ron, trying to look apologetic, "but look on the bright side - at least you know for sure she likes you now!"

Harry made a neutral noise in the back of his throat, daring not to doubt his fears that she was too upset that night to think straight, or whether it was a spur of the moment/must work my hardest to forget mistakes.

"And well, if at first you don't succeed, try and try again!" said Ron happily, safe in the knowledge he would never have to worry about such things with Hermione again. 

*

Catalina banged her feet against the side of the wall, back facing the cold early morning sunlight of the high window she was sitting on. Her perch commanded a great view of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, spoilt only by the fact Moaning Myrtle was occupying it. That ghost had a certain amount of animosity towards her, which wasn't new, it was only the reason that was. Myrtle as _jealous_ of Catalina, because she was such good friends with Harry, the thought almost made her laugh - a lovesick ghost.

But she didn't laugh because she knew how the ghost felt. She actually did feel love_sick_, as if she was genuinely becoming ill as a result of being in love but forcing herself not to show it. She let her mind wander back to the previous evening. It had all seemed so right in the end - she had nothing to fear from Harry, only her own thoughts and she'd finally plucked up the courage to touch him. 

But she found that once she tasted the chocolate, she wanted the whole bar. She didn't want to be unhappy anymore, and she knew Harry was unhappy too with the way things were going. In one glorious moment she'd seen a way out - the way she knew was there all along, she was just too afraid to take it. 

But the moment had passed, been broken, torn apart. Fate had intervened and the Gods had had a good laugh at the star-crossed lovers. But before she jumped back on the bandwagon she mulled over the ramifications of yesterday. One of her secret worries was if it didn't work out with Harry, how would they ever be able to go back to being friends? Would she be able to? Or would she then lose not just a boyfriend, but also a best friend? Because how strained and strange would it be, to see each other every day, knowing you know every little secret worth knowing about them, but that it hadn't been enough to keep them together.

She was getting slightly ahead of herself she knew, but she couldn't help worrying. She was a worrier by nature, or at least she was now. Suddenly she heard the door creak open to reveal Hermione sliding in, her anxious eyes sliding right over to her hiding place and walking over. 

She paused at the bottom, gave her a level look in the eye before climbing up next to her.

"All guys are gits," was all she said.

"What?" asked Catalina. 

"Well Harry…"she said waving her arms around uselessly, "he's a git - for whatever he's done this time. But don't take it out on him too hard, he really is a bit clueless sometimes."

Catalina stared blankly at Hermione for a few seconds before she burst out laughing. That was exactly what she needed right at that moment, a good laugh.

"What?" said Hermione uncertainly.

"Nothing, but poor Harry," she said, wiping away a tear of laughter, "that you always assume it's him that's done wrong."

"He hasn't?" said Hermione looking nonplussed yet pleased at the same time.

Catalina shook her head and filled Hermione in on the situation. She gave her a wide-eyed look when she stopped speaking.

"You were just about to…" she began, looking panic stricken, "and we interrupted…oh I'm sorry! I didn't realise…"

"Hey, I didn't know until a few seconds before," shrugged Catalina with a sad smile, "it just felt right, you know?"

"About time you know," grinned Hermione, nudging her playfully in the shoulder, "do you know the reason he wouldn't speak to you for the first day?"

"No," said Catalina, interested to hear why indeed.

"He'd convinced himself, God knows how, that you didn't like him in that way. You know how much he likes you and everything - he was going mental because of it," said Hermione with a roll of her eyes, "God love him."

"Really?" asked Catalina sounding torn between amusement and pity, "what made him think that?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulder as if she didn't know but looked as if she did secretly. Catalina probably know the answer as well, if she'd let herself admit it. Casting spells at him every time he came near wasn't probably the best way of flirting she told herself. 

Hermione gave her a wide smile, "He likes you, you like him. Just…persevere ok? Just because its uncomfortable now, doesn't mean it all will be? And maybe he'll help you take your mind of things."

"Yeah maybe, but I'd prefer to stay here for the rest of my life rather than have to go and do that study session tonight on Poland…"

"I'll try and bring Ron over then yeah? We can all sit together, no worries then."

Catalina nodded gratefully, and Hermione looked around their surrounding before giving her another grin.

"So you're just hiding here out of…?"

"Embarrassment mostly," laughed Catalina, suddenly finding her situation humorous, "and now it's gone weird…I don't know what to say or anything."

"He doesn't really do any of this sort of stuff though Harry," added Hermione, "he can face all sorts of danger and never seem to come any the worse, but he falls to pieces at times like these. I blame the fact he had no-one nice to talk to for his first 11 years, or to you know, teach him about stuff. Before he came here he never really had to worry about relationships with anyone…"

Catalina murmured in assent and stared at the cracked mirror for sometime, it was unnaturally quiet in the toilet and she could tell Myrtle was eavesdropping. 

"Are you going to try again?" asked Hermione.

Catalina shrugged. Should she? Could she face loosing him as a friend if it all went A over T? Then again, could she face _not _trying again? 

As she was deliberating, Hermione hopped down off the sill, getting ready to go to lessons. She looked up at Catalina, who was banging her heels against the wall and biting her lip. Sometimes she just wished they would actually _talk _to each other, rather than having this complicated system of gossip swapping. She was ready to bet her last penny on the fact they'd never even skirted the subject of them liking each other, in conversation or otherwise. 

"Coming? Or you'll have to face the wrath of Snape as well as mortal embarrassment," grinned Hermione.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, coming," laughed Catalina sliding down off her sill and falling to the floor in an agile crouch, "but laugh all you want, just remember, you were in my position once!"

They both laughed and walked to Potions, whose doors had just been opened and everyone was already trooping in. She sat at the seat next to Hermione, dismayed (or was it slightly happy?) to see Harry was sitting opposite her next to Ron. Dismayed because it meant she had a permanently red-faced lesson as she kept getting caught looking at him, or vice versa as well as having to endure the shared looks of Ron and Hermione. But happy because he _was _looking at her. Silly she knew, but she liked the way he had to keep reassuring himself she was there, or studying her as she wrote, unbeknown to him that she saw everything. 

The lesson past in a blur, she spent most of the time copying from the book without even reading it and without noticing the rest of the classes usual reactions to her. She was so caught up in a world of normal teenage thoughts she almost forgot her history. When she reflected on it later on, she was quite pleased with the distraction it had offered her.

As promised, that evening was spent revising their schools, and as promised Hermione and Ron stayed with them and avoided any awkward alone time. But it seemed Hermione had other pursuits in mind when she left the table to get another book. Catalina watched her go, safe in the knowledge that at least Ron was still there. 

Obviously not, she thought as Ron also got up and wandered off in Hermione's direction. How did that happen, Catalina wondered wildly to herself as Harry continued to read out the passage from the book to the slightly smaller audience than he thought.

"_…The school is set in the centre of the town of Veliko Tărnova, the students have free access to the town at any times, baring in mind some curfews…"_

He trailed off when he noticed suddenly Hermione and Ron weren't there anymore and Catalina inwardly cringed.

*

Hermione pushed a few books away from the shelf and looked through the gaps, she could clearly see Catalina and Harry's table and realised with a stab of disappointment that they weren't talking to each other yet. They were reading from their respective books and occasional shooting glances at each other.

"Just get on with it will you?" muttered Hermione impatiently, "They didn't even kiss and they're acting like this, god knows what would have happened if they did…"

"Do you know, talking to yourself is one of the first signs of madness?" came a voice startlingly close to her ear.

She gave a muffled squeak and turned slightly to see Ron grinning at her cheekily. She gave a relieved sigh, and pushed him hard in the chest to let him know her thoughts on being snuck up on.

"What's the second sign?" she whispered, staring at the two silent figures at the table.

"Talking to me," he replied with a slight laugh.

"You're true, you're true," she said in mock-irritation, before nudging him with her shoulder to let him know she was only joking.

"I'd be offended but I haven't the strength," he said, and squinted at what she was looking at, "I thought I'd told you not to spy anymore?"

"Since when do I ever listen to what you say?" she teased, "anyway, I'm only trying to help our two best friends!"

"By forcing them to sit alone in silence for hours at a time, isn't that a bit savage, even for you?" he asked, watching as Harry got up from the table and brought over another stack of books, again in silence. 

"They won't be in silence for long," said Hermione firmly, pulling out her wand.

"Hey, hold up a moment," said Ron, watching her point her wand through the hole in the shelf in fear, "what are you doing to them?"

"Nothing bad," she said, before muttering a small incantation.

After a second the pile of books that was currently acting as the Berlin Wall between the two sprawled to the floor and they both jumped and looked down at it in surprise. And then magically - they began to speak! They both leant down together to pick them up and smacked head, sitting up and laughing in unison.

"Just like in the movies," said Hermione happily.

Ron had to hand it her, the simplest spell seemed to have worked, they were talking - not as much as they usually did, and there was a residue of slight embarrassment but it was something. Ron was grateful, he didn't think he could take another day of Harry walking around occasionally shouting 'centimetres' and hitting stuff - he worried one day it would be him instead of the locker/wall/bin he was practising on at the moment. 

He wrapped his arm around Hermione's waist and planted a kiss on her temple, "you're brilliant, do you know that?"

"I'm not," she said bashfully, "but sometimes it's nice to be told."

She turned to him and stood on her tiptoes slightly as he leant down and kissed her, forgetting all at once of the plight of Harry and Catalina and then ten minutes of alone time she had _planned _to give them. 

But no matter, it seemed to do the trick she thoughts smugly later that evening as they departed for bed. Harry and Catalina were definitely on speaking terms - albeit slightly red in the face, no mention of _anything _to do with kissing terms. She was pleased and secretly astonished they'd got over it so quickly. She would have given anything to have heard how they'd made up, but as it was she had been slightly preoccupied. 

Anyway, she consoled herself as they climbed into their beds, it was only a matter of time until they tried again. Only a matter of time. 

****

AN/ SORRY! That is all I have to say! A big sorry for the wait on this! I have just moved out of home for the first time in my life and travelled 100 miles away to live in city to study archaeology at university! As you could hopefully understand it's been a bit stressful and busy and I've only just got the internet set up in my room!

Well how did you like my 'action'? Sniggers…oh well, at least everything's out in the open now! And as Hermione so succinctly said…"It's only a matter of time!"

**Death's Shadow** - Lol, Ginny is admittedly one of my favourite characters in the HP books and after writing her so nicely in my other stories I thought I'd have a bit of fun with her! Hence the fact she's becoming majorly annoyed with both Harry and Catalina in this book. There is method to my madness though! Wait and see…And as to their having a fight, again, wait and see…

**dementorchic** - Yes, how did you like the 'action'. It may not be anything huge but it's a step in the right direction! They go to Grimbits in about 2 weeks, and I'm thinking they should like her a bit more there too!

**Dragon Tamer47** - is that with ice and lemon? Here's the next chapter impatient customer! Would you like anything else with that, peanuts? Pork scratchings? Hehehe…

**goldensnitch3** - To my most impatient reviewer! Here's the chapter for you!!! And I don't know what orientation is, is it some form of sport? Am I showing the wide-gaps in my knowledge of American culture here? (Assuming you are American that is?)

**popcorn1289**** -** As you demanded, one chapter at your disposal - how did it fare?

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Preciousgirl - You're back! Cheers wildly! So you're in college now? Where? As for me, you probably read that I have also moved to University so I too am a newbie in a new town and have only _just _set up my internet! Well good luck and thanks for the review! P.S. Why do I seem to have about 15 of the same review from you? Bizarre…

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Teaser Trailer: There was a blood curdling shriek of pain that ceased abruptly as there was a sudden shower of blood. The body fell backwards, crashing into the window and falling to the ground, with a sickening crack.

Oooohhhh…

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	21. The Lion and the Snake

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Rated for mild swearing…

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~*~*~ Chapter Twenty ~*~*~

The Snake and the Lion

Harry could hear voices echoing around the chamber, bouncing off the walls that were high and made of rough black stone. Every now and then there was a wide circular portal in the stone, each containing a shadowy figure. He moved towards one of them and the voices grew louder, they sounded like warnings.

He shook his head slightly and tried to make his vision clearer and heard shuffling feet around him, the sound of people moving by stealth. 

"Search every one of them," came a raspy voice that Harry was unable to locate, "you know what to look for."

There was a moment of crashing, dust rose into the air and there was the sound of a long piercing whistle. The voices gave more shouts of warning and then they were running away. The noise had come from a young woman, blowing on a small silver instrument. She gave the approaching group of people a terrified look, and was swept along with them.

The scene was of confusion, and it melted into another. A low roofed house, the fire in the corner throwing dancing shadows of light onto the face of the young woman. It highlighted the bruising, the cuts and the swellings that marred the once beautiful face, which was now sobbing uncontrollably.

"Do you know which one it is?" hissed a cruel familiar voice that sent shivers down Harry's spine.

The woman shook her head and there was a shout of frustration from more than one voice. A robed figure darted forward and seized the woman, picking her up as easily as if she were a rag doll, heavy fingers squeezing the already bruised throat.

"What number?" asked the hooded man, digging his wand into the woman side.

She choked slightly yet she shook her head and the man dropped her carelessly, a swift foot kicking her stomach before he walked back out of Harry's vision. Harry could feel the panic building in his chest, he had to shout, warn her what they were about to do.

"You can tell us sweet one," came the commanding voice again.

The woman merely sobbed into the floor, not moving or trying to flee. Harry yelled at her to get up, he could sense the build up of magic around the room.

"Maybe you would tell us, if we asked a little more nicely?" he asked her in a terrible voice, "_Crucio_."

Her screams were terrible, long, wailing, feeling like they were penetrating every single cell of his own body, as if he could feel the curse himself. He shouted loudly, yelling, screaming for them to let her go, for them to stop

And then they did.

But the cries and sobs continued, the woman lay gasping in pain, screwed up in a tight ball as if it would protect herself from more. 

"You didn't like that, did you?" asked the voice, while others around it laughed cruelly.

Harry tried to move, but he couldn't seem to do anything, and what could he do? Could he stop them from hurting her anymore? No…the answer was no…he couldn't save her.

"You can go then, my sweet one," came the silky voice again.

The woman raised her bloody eyes to the speaker, flinching. She seemed to be wondering whether this was real or some kind of joke.

"I will give you five seconds head start," hissed the cold voice, "lets see if you can outrun death my pretty." 

She choked back a sob and clambered to her feet, pulling herself up by the window sill.

"Five…four," began the counting.

The woman trembled and Harry yelled as loud as he could for her to run, but he had no voice she could hear. She would not listen, she didn't understand what he was saying.

"Three…two…"

The woman raised her violently shaking hands and made the sign of the cross over her body, jerky movements tracing the lines. This made the group laugh, loud and ringing as the woman grasped her necklace.

"One…"

A curse was thrown at the woman, which hit her square in the chest. There was a blood curdling shriek of pain that ceased abruptly as there was a sudden shower of blood. The body fell backwards, crashing into the window and falling to the ground, with a sickening crack. 

Harry was yelling with all his might, screaming and running towards the window.

"Times up."

When he laid eyes on the body out of the window he felt rough hands seize him. He pushed them away hard and the person shouted his name, over and over again. Harry yelled to the woman as the demands grew more persistent.

"HARRY!"

He jerked awake, his limbs bound together tight by the bed clothes. He sat bolt upright and was breathing deep unsteady, terrified breathes, each one sounding ragged and horror filled. He was forced to lie down almost immediately as a white hot pain seared through his scar, causing him to cry out in pain and clamp his hand to his head.

Through the haze around his eyes he could hear voices, Ron's shouting his name, heard more people moving around in the room.

When the pain had almost subsided Harry peeled away his hand, which was drenched with sweat from his forehead. He looked across to see Ron staring at him white faced sat next to Professor McGonagall. 

"She's dead," he said in horrified voice, his throat aching from his yells, "they hit her with…and the blood…"

"Who has? Who was it?" demanded the professor, looking almost afraid.

"I don't know," he said, gritting his teeth against another wash of pain, "I don't know…"

"Can you walk?" she asked him quickly, and he nodded, "then follow me."

Harry swung his legs over the side of the bed and was alarmed to see they were trembling terribly. He looked across to see the other boys huddled in the corner, all looking pale and shaking themselves. Harry climbed to his feet unsteadily and followed the professor down the stairs, closely followed by Ron. When they emerged in the common room Harry was slightly shocked to see Professor Dumbledore sitting in the chairs by the fire, with two figures.

There was another sudden rush of pain and his scar burnt terribly, he pressed his hand into it hard, as if it would make any difference. He feel into the sofa gratefully and through his soaked fringe he saw for the first time the other two people - it was Catalina and Hermione.

They were both trembling and Catalina had her hand raised to her forehead tightly as Hermione hugged her.

"Can all other students please return to their beds," said Dumbledore in a loud voice.

Harry was aware of the sounds of many people scrambling away and walking upstairs again, and soon the Common Room was only occupied by the six people sitting by the fire. 

"What did you see?" asked Professor Dumbledore.

"A woman," said Catalina and Harry in unison.

Neither seemed shocked about this, though Ron and Hermione shared a look, trembling terribly in their pyjamas.

"Catalina where was she?"

"She had a whistle…a silver whistle," she said faintly, "she was guarding the room…a black room with holes in the walls. They took her…they wanted to know where it was hidden, what number it was…she wouldn't tell them…"

Dumbledore made a steeple of his fingers and rested his chin on it carefully. Harry could see from the look in his eyes that he didn't understand what they were referring to.

"What happened Harry?" he asked, blue eyes holding firm with his own.

"They took her…tortured her," he whispered as the others rose their hands to their mouths in shock, "she wouldn't tell them where it was, she didn't understand anymore. So they killed her…they gave her five seconds to run away but she didn't. She fell out of the window and there was blood…blood everywhere."

"That's enough," said Professor McGonagall in a quaking voice looking distressed.

Harry shook his head and laid it on his knees - why did it still hurt so much? It was one death, it was over already, why was it still painful?

"Who did it?" asked Dumbledore quietly.

Harry refused to answer. He knew who the voice belonged to, yet he didn't want to have to say it in front of them. But he needn't have worried because seconds later he heard Catalina's voice speak up, it was trembling with pain but laced with bitterness and anger.

"Charles Firelight…it was Charles Firelight."

*

They had refused to go to the hospital wing, and eventually the teachers had left them, off to investigate all they had said. Harry sat in the chair closest to the fire, which was now crackling in the grate merrily. He wrapped his arms around his knees and tried to screw into as tight a ball as possible, to try and shut out the cold. He stared at the flames, not really seeing them at all, only the image of the curse hitting the woman in the chest, hearing her scream and watching her fall…

"She was screaming like mad," came Hermione's voice from far off, trembling slightly, "and thrashing and yelling…"

"Harry too…" came Ron's voice, "for too long this time…much too long. Neville had managed to get both professors before he woke up…"

I'm still here, thought Harry vaguely, we're both still here, don't talk about us like we're not. 

"Can you hear everyone awake?" asked Hermione, "they were all woken up…Lavender and Parvati ran for it when she started…I couldn't do anything, she wouldn't wake up…"

"They never do," said Ron in a hollow voice, "I've tried waking up Harry…but you can't…"

He dragged his eyes away from the flames to see the other person sitting in front of it, in much the same position as he. She was staring at the fire still, her face looking even more pale and drawn in comparison, hand clamped tightly over the crook of her one arm. Why was she dreaming them he wondered vaguely, why could she see what he could see?

"We shouldn't anyway, wake them up I mean," began Ron, "it's dangerous…he breaks things with his powers and he doesn't realise it…"

Harry didn't seem to feel to effected by this news, although he did wonder why he'd never told him before. He thought Ron was right though, as much as he didn't want to see those things, he wouldn't want Ron to risk himself to wake him up. Harry heard Hermione agree with Ron and tell her about Catalina…it begged the question though of why they could see the same dreams. He could because of his scar, and it was only ever him seeing Voldemort, not his little sidekicks.

So why could they dream of her father if Voldemort hadn't been there? And how could he still be feeling twinges in his head, after nearly an hour had passed since the dream.

"Who do you think it was?" asked Hermione fearfully.

"I don't know," said Ron, giving a final, shaky sigh, "but lets try not to think about it."

"It's hard not to," said Hermione in a faraway voice.

They both stopped talking and Harry felt his eyes drooping as his body begged for the sleep he'd missed. In the end they went to sleep in front of the fire, waking early when dawn broke over the mountains. He got up and got dressed in the dorm, avoiding the eyes of the other boys who were watching him as if he would go off on one at any moment.

They were still asleep when Harry came down and he decided to go down and have breakfast early. He was one of the first few people in the Great Hall and he sat with his bowl of soggy cornflakes, staring morosely out of the one of the stained glass windows, thinking.

Eventually the Hall started filling up, and soon Harry saw Ron, Hermione and Catalina walking in, already looking around for him. They walked over briskly and sat down next to him with anxious expressions on their faces. Catalina slipped into the seat next to him and silently began to drink her juice.

"Don't run off like that," said Hermione with a frown on her face, "we didn't know where you'd gone."

"I only came for breakfast," said Harry, "or do I need permission to be on my own?"

She didn't reply, and settled for gathering her breakfast together. Soon the tables began to fill up, and it seemed news of Harry and Catalina's rude awakening last night had spread throughout the school already, judging by the looks they were getting. The arrival of post diverted their attention and Harry had a deep sense of foreboding when he saw the extra thick Daily Prophets winging their ways to the students and teachers alike. 

He watched as Hermione received hers, and she read the page open-mouthed.

"What happened?" asked Harry, "apart from the obvious."

She looked across to him and flipped the page over so he could read it.

"_Night of attacks leave widespread death and destruction in organised attack on mainland Europe_…" read out Harry. 

She handed him the paper and he hastily opened it up. Key phrases jumped out of the article, which read as if it had been hastily put together. A high-power French family that belonged to their Ministry, a group of Auror's in Germany, and many other important people in European Ministry's and Defence League's.

"No mention of the woman," Catalina said in a low voice, startling Harry, he hadn't been aware she was reading it with him.

"No…" he said, frowning even deeper, "why not though?"

"Either they don't know or they don't want us to know," said Catalina, eyes flicking across the page. 

"Someone must know though…she was blowing her whistle to alert other people, and someone would have found her body in that village," said Harry, shuddering slightly at the memory. 

She nodded and without another word turned back to her juice. Harry stared at the paper a while longer, there was no need to read between the lines of this article. The writer clearly wanted to show how the Death Eaters were targeting people of power, with the obvious aim of creating turmoil in the country's which would make it easier to take over. 

Harry was side-tracked by the appearance of an owl in front of him, with a note attached to its leg. Harry pulled it off and the bird took off at once, leaving him to unfurl the parchment.

__

Please come to my office as soon as possible,

Yours, Albus Dumbledore.

Harry tucked it into his robe and quickly informed Ron and Hermione before walking out of the Hall. It didn't take him long to reach the gargoyle, which sprang back when he approached without any need for a password. He found himself at the heavy oak door, which he knocked on before entering to find Dumbledore sitting at his desk, staring at his Pensieve reflectively.

"Ah Harry, please take a seat," he said warmly, pushing it aside, "how are you feeling?"

"Fine," he said, sitting down heavily.

"No doubt you've seen the paper?" he asked him, pulling out a small sheaf of parchment.

"Yes, it certainly explains why my scar hurt for so long…" he said, trailing off and shrugging helplessly.

"Indeed. Harry, we lost an Order member last night, Marcus Foster was working with the Auror's in Germany," said Dumbledore.

Harry nodded dumbly feeling slightly sick. He had read of it already and thought nothing about it and suddenly he had a name to put to one of the deaths. He knew Marcus, he was one of the members who had led Harry into Riddle Manor, he had killed Nagini.

"I'm still puzzled as to why you saw Firelights attack and not one involving Voldemort, unless he was there and you didn't see him. It seems we still have much to understand on the subject of both your scars…"

Harry nodded again, not really knowing what to say. He could tell this wasn't why Dumbledore had asked him up to his office as the old man was looking particularly thoughtful now.

"Harry, I would just like to ask how everything is going, after last years events," he asked suddenly, throwing him slightly off track.

"Well, you know, Catalina's still really upset by everything, but she's getting better slowly," said Harry.

"No, how are _you_ doing?" asked Dumbledore, looking unusually serious.

"Oh…fine," said Harry blankly.

"Have you given anymore though to the Prophecies of Amaris Milne?" he asked him.

"No," said Harry simply, "I don't believe in them, so it would be a waste of time."

Dumbledore looked at Harry over the top of his glasses, making him feel slightly ashamed of the way he'd spoken. He merely nodded to him though and pulled out a book from thin-air, laying it open in front of him. Harry glared at it, he hated that stupid book of prophecies. 

"However your feeling towards this book are not relevant," said Dumbledore, opening the cracking pages, "whether you believe they are about you or not, it would be prudent to heed some of the warnings." 

Harry merely stared at the book, not giving away anything to his headmaster of his thoughts on the subject, though they were clear. When he was younger Dumbledore had always seemed like the most wisest and good person Harry had ever met. Infallible in fact. Dumbledore didn't make mistakes, Dumbledore could sort _anything _out. 

But nobody is infallible. 

Dumbledore's trust in this book to spell out his whole life was not something Harry would ever have imagined the old Dumbledore to do. Dumbledore weighed and balanced things, judged the best approach, figured out exactly what would happen. The old Dumbledore would have shared a sly wink with him whenever the topics of prophecies or seer's were mentioned - he wouldn't have spent his whole life dedicated to such a useless pastime as he had.

And the old Dumbledore had given _everyone _a second chance, just look at Sirius and Lupin. Everyone had always deserved a chance in his eyes because he knew that people could change, if you gave them the opportunity. But still, Harry couldn't understand why Dumbledore still didn't trust, or even particularly _like, _Catalina. He'd invited a former Death Eater spy to come back to the school and teach potions, seemingly without any proof of his validity but he couldn't find it in his heart to trust someone who'd been duped into their actions. If it was so plain to Harry, why wasn't it to him? Why couldn't Dumbledore see beyond her past and her family and see her for _her_?

When Dumbledore had first shared his little book of prophecies with him last year, Harry had finally managed to see Dumbledore as human, not some all-powerful, all-knowing person he'd always believed. Dumbledore made mistakes too, and he was still making them. The book cradled in the old mans hands at that very moment was proof enough of this. 

While all these thoughts had been running through Harry's mind, Dumbledore had been studying the pages carefully, although Harry had no doubt he'd probably committed them all to memory long ago. He looked up at the teenager over his half moon glasses, and he suddenly got the feeling Dumbledore had heard every single one of the thoughts he'd just had. 

"As you may or may not know, several prophecies have been made, not just the one. And they are not all bad," he told him, before peering back at the pages. 

Harry's ears pricked up at this, he didn't mind the sound of _not too bad_ prophecies. 

"Yes, some are not that bad at all," began Dumbledore, sensing Harry's hidden interest, "Others merely state occurrences, or talk in such riddles they are indecipherable. However, the task of this meeting was not to discuss such things. I merely wanted to show you one such verse, which, whether it be about you or not, would be useful nonetheless."

"I don't want to hear it," said Harry simply, "sir."

"I'm sure you don't want to. But think of this Harry, if you do not believe in them, then you have no reason to fear what they contain, is that not true," he said with an almost hidden smile about his twinkling eyes. 

"Yes," he said stubbornly, "go ahead then."

Harry leaned back in his chair and folded his arms defiantly, before realising he maybe ought to show a little more respect to his headmaster, and settled for a mere slouch. Dumbledore however ignored him and sat back in chair and propped up the book, reading out the lines of faded ink slowly and deliberately, as if to impress every word into Harry's memory.

__

The Phoenix will fly with him forever,

And carry the woes of their world,

What began between two has now grown,

But never forget the purpose.

The conflict was born of two,

And will end in two.

The snake and the lion, 

Together they fight,

But only one will fall,

For only one may live to tell the tale. 

Dumbledore laid the book down onto his desk, and looked over Harry, waiting for his reaction. Harry however was fighting the urge to roll his eyes, that stuff was so vague! And corny, it could apply to anyone and anything and Dumbledore knew it - he couldn't possibly _really _believe in that stuff. 

"I'm sorry sir, I was never any good at poetry at school," said Harry eventually, "I was in bottom set English."

It wasn't quite the answer Dumbledore was expecting, but then again, he hadn't expected much better.

"And I take it from that comment you would like me to translate for you my thoughts on the prophecy?"

"On the poem? Yes please sir," said Harry.

"I think its self explanatory Harry, and I know you probably understand it more than me. But I want to draw your attention to four of these lines. _What began between two has now grown, but never forget the purpose. The conflict was born of two, and will end in two._"

"Harry, these past few months have been very confusing for all involved and your concentration on Catalina's plight is leading you astray from your own. Voldemort set out for you, and it will always be about _you_. Her quarrel is with her father, she is merely a complication, a sub-plot as it were."

"A sub-plot?" asked Harry incredulously, feeling a spark of anger towards the old man, "this is not some story! This isn't a fairytale, we aren't being written into this position, we're living it!"

"Of course Harry," said Dumbledore calmly in the face of Harry's rising anger, "but you have just perfectly demonstrated what I was trying to say. She is a distraction, a distraction that could have dire consequences if you don't _open your eyes_ and look at the wider view."

Harry had never felt so alienated from his former mentor than he did at that moment, they were on completely opposite tracks and he couldn't understand the man at all. And anyway, Harry didn't care if Catalina _was _a distraction, maybe he _wanted _a distraction. Maybe he didn't want to spend his whole life worrying that Voldemort was going to pop out from the shadows and finish what he started.

"Your upcoming task is very important Harry, and I must admit I was slightly dubious about the pairing of the teams abroad. But you work well together, and her skills will be invaluable to us all."

"Well its nice to know that everyone suddenly likes her when her skills are needed," said Harry bitterly, "what happens when she'd not needed anymore, she goes back to being a _complication_?"

"Harry, this is _not_ about her!" said Dumbledore, banging his fist down on the table suddenly.

Harry jumped a mile, he had never heard Dumbledore speak like that before, or had the headmasters anger turned upon himself like that. The headmaster however quickly recovered himself and smoothly steepled his fingers together, fixing the shocked boy with a long stare.

"This is precisely what I am talking about. You need to focus right now, do you understand that? This situation is more dangerous than you can ever dream of. And without you full and undivided attention the protections we have all built up could come crashing down around you. It only takes one curse Harry, one curse."

"I _know_ that," he replied defiantly.

"Good. Now, I believe I have said what I wanted to. I want you to seriously consider it all and promise me that you will not be distracted from your purpose. There is much more riding on this than just your safety and well-being."

"I understand that sir."

"Excellent, then you may return to your classmates and I will contact you closer to the date of your departure. Until that time, be careful."

Harry got up out of his chair wordlessly and said a fast farewell to Dumbledore before striding out of the room. He was so confused right then, he didn't know whether to be angry at Dumbledore for his words and dismissal of Catalina, or to sympathise with him. He _did _understand the importance of his task, and he did understand the facts of his life, but he resented Dumbledore for pointing them out, for making them realistic.

In the end he settled for having no feelings on the subject, and traipsed down to the open common room where he supposed everyone would be spending their free Sunday. When he entered he immediately located his three friends and walked over to them. Ron and Hermione were playing pool and by the looks of things Hermione was winning while Catalina was sat on a nearby table reading her book, back pressed up against the wall.

Harry leant against the table and watched Hermione taking a shot wordlessly. Ron bent down to take his before noticing he was there.

"What did he have to say then?" he asked as he sighted along the cue inexpertly.

"Not much," replied Harry, crouching down and leaning his chin on his crossed arms.

"Was it about last night?" asked Hermione slightly fearfully.

"Yeah. Apparently one of the Order members were undercover in Germany and were killed," he said in a monotone voice, "you know, Marcus Foster, the guy who led us into the Manor?"

"I remember," said Ron in a flat voice, as Hermione merely raised a hand to her mouth in shock.

"That's so sad," she said a few moments later, "What about Lupin?"

"What about Lupin?" asked Harry blankly.

"He's in Germany now remember? Teaching at the school," she told him, abandoning the game for a moment to fix Harry with a worried look.

"Oh I forgot abut that," said Harry, feeling slightly anxious himself now, "but Dumbledore didn't say anything - I think he must be fine."

"We would have been told if not," said Ron firmly.

Harry nodded hesitantly, he supposed Dumbledore would have told him if Remus was in trouble, even now. The other two continued in their game and Harry watched them wordlessly with fresh worries over Remus's safety floating around his head.

Harry watched them for a while, not really seeing anything, rather, deep in thought over what Dumbledore had told him. It was only early afternoon and he was already shattered, he had a ton of homework to do, a letter to write to Sirius and Hagrid to visit before he went to bed, but he couldn't quite bring himself to do any of it right at that moment.

"Maybe you ought to talk to her," said Hermione in a low voice to Harry as she set up shot next to where he was standing, "I think she's in shock."

Harry looked across to Catalina, who was still on the same page of her book yet was staring at the pages with unmoving eyes. She raised a hand to her face and pinched the bridge of her nose for a few moments before trying to concentrate on her book again. He walked over and leant against the wall she was sitting against.

However he couldn't think of anything to say. Not out of shyness of talking to her, just because there was a complete lack of anything adequate to say in that situation. What do you say to someone who's just witnessed their father murder someone in cold blood? The English language was never created to deal with situations like this.

"Fancy going for a walk?" came her voice, breaking him out of his deliberations. 

Harry merely nodded, grateful she had made the choice and waited for her to get up. They walked across the common room, shooting Ron and explanatory glance before walking out into the corridor. It was full of people mingling about, many of which were giving them odd, worried looks, but Harry felt he didn't much care. He'd given up a long time ago on seeking people approval.

They didn't say anything as they traipsed around the castle, taking old winding corridors Harry hadn't used since his first year before by some general silent consensus deciding to head outside. They were just proceeding down the stairs of the Entrance Hall when she suddenly spoke up.

"I don't particularly feel like talking about last night, unless you do," she said, in an emotionless voice. 

"No, me neither," he agreed quickly as they emerged in the frosty sunlight.

They headed over for the Quidditch locker room and again by some mutual agreement, pulled out the trunk of equipment and carried it onto the pitch. There were a few odd flyers from various teams on the pitch, doing a little solo flying and everyone seemed to be ignoring each other. Harry sat down on the damp grass and watched as Catalina flipped the latches on the trunk and kicked it open, pulling out one of the Beaters clubs without a second thought. 

He watched in half-hearted interest as she released the catch on one of the bludgers, which went rocketing up into the sky, completing a slow arc, before pelting back down the pitch towards her. With a well aimed smack the bludger flew away from her, returning like a boomerang a few seconds later. 

She continued down this vein for some time, smacking it with all her might and merely waiting for it to come back.

"Wouldn't it be nice," she said suddenly, giving an almighty whack onto the bludger, "if you could be in somebody else's body, just for a day."

It curved in another shallow arc and zoomed down the pitch towards her, the clank of wood on wood ringing through the air.

"Maybe," said Harry continuing to contribute grass stalks to the small pile he had created, "but who would you want to be?"

__

Whack.

"I don't know, anybody I guess. The average plain Jane or Sally," she said, breathing deeply form the effort of her exercise.

__

Whack.

"Trouble is, you'd want more than a day wouldn't you?" asked Harry levitating the grass stalks into the air with a wave of his hand.

__

Whack.

"Maybe," she shrugged, hefting the bat up slightly higher, "Or maybe it would be nice to wake up with amnesia one day, and never be able to remember anything that happened before you woke up."

__

Whack.

"But that'd be scary," said Harry, creating a small whirlwind in his levitated grass until a small tornado was being formed, "to never know who you are or anything, or be able to remember anything."

__

Whack.

"Sounds perfect to me."

__

Whack.

*

Her day was not going well, not going well at all. None of theirs was. While it was common knowledge of the Death Eater attack, no one knew for sure that Catalina's father had been involved at all. But when did and little thing like facts get in the way of good gossip? Now the hate campaign against her had stepped up a notch. Feet came out of nowhere to trip her up, the ever familiar Hogwarts greeting of hissing when she walked past had increased with renewed vigour, and food and spells had an unhealthy attraction to her back. 

On one not so very special night, the students feelings towards her had been made quite clear.

She had been walking down the corridor, her thoughts a million miles away - in sunny countries where the heat would shrink and melt the path you were walking, in cold countries where your eyelashes froze when you were outside. Of countries with huge celebrations and festivals, with fireworks and laughter, with food and drink and singing. She had so many memories now, she sometimes thought her head would explode with the sounds, the noises, the tastes. 

She hefted her books further into her arms, and thought about her latest country she was going to go to; Poland. She couldn't remember the country, but from what she had read she had already formed a picture. A country of poor people, of myth, religion, magic, a country that had suppressed over the years by muggle and magical folk alike. The school that supplied the textbooks, that gave you one meal a day and expected you to cook your own in-between, a school where you were allowed out until the late curfew. 

She wondered about the students, if they'd managed to find these spies the Order feared were there. Whether her and Harry would be able to gather any information - whether she wanted them to. 

She heard a sudden noise, and looked around her. She was walking back to the Gryffindor Tower via the corridor the new common room was situated on. There were groups of chatting students dotted down the hall, bidding farewell to each other before they headed separate ways. She could feel them watching her, heard snatches of phrases as she past some and caught the eyes of some of the glare's. 

She began to feel very nervous, why did she tell the others she was ok to go out on her own? Why didn't she ask for company? She hugged her books to her closer and kept her eyes and head down, not wanting to see anyone anymore. She approached a large group of chatting girls from mixed houses, and held her breath, begging them not to notice her.

However, she knew she'd failed in her mission when the happy chatter died down slightly, and they all turned to her, whispering amongst themselves. She kept her eyes trained on the flagstones and kept going. Suddenly she saw a leg extended in her path and before she had time to react she was tripped up and fell to the ground hard, books scattering across the cold stones.

All around her she could hear the cold-hearted laughter of the girls, echoing and bouncing around her head reminding her just how much she hated it here. She pushed herself to her knees, tasting the iron tang of blood in her mouth as she tried to ignore her stinging chin. Blinking back the tears, she silently gathered her fallen books that had loose pages dangling off the spines now.

"What are you doing back here Firelight?" asked one of the girls above her. 

She ignored them, trying to focus on anything but the laughing voices, climbing unsteadily to her feet. She looked up briefly to see the faces of the girls, most of whom were smirking at her attempts to seem unconcerned or laughing. 

"Nobody wants you here," said another.

Catalina cursed the tears in her eyes and found a sudden hope spring into her heart. In the crowd she could see Ron's red hair, which meant he had found her and was going to stick up for her. Her heart plummeted however as the person in front of Ron shifted and she saw it wasn't him at all…lengthen the hair, shorten the height and maybe change the gender and you got the idea.

"The sooner you go the better," said the girl next to Ginny.

Most of them laughed loudly, and Catalina looked into Ron's sister eyes. She could see the pity there, but also the fear, of her and of her own friends. But most of all, deep down, she could see the anger, the anger that drove her to stand and watch the bullying and do nothing. 

"God you're so pathetic," sneered the apparent leader, "you can't even stand up for yourself, you can't even bloody speak! I'd get out of here of your own free will, before we drive you out, because either way - you're gone…"

Catalina gave a great shudder, trying to contain her tears, but they betrayed her and slipped down her face. She could tell the girls weren't really saying anything particularly bad, only random things they thought would get the reaction they wanted.

She spun on her heal and hurried down the corridor, to hear the high shrieks of laughter. In a perfect world, Catalina thought bitterly, Ginny would follow after her, stick up for her, tell her she was forced by fear to join in with the others. But this wasn't a perfect world, far from it. Ginny never did come running, and as she ran around the corner she caught sight of her laughing along with one of the others. 

All of a sudden all the barriers, all of the protections she built up fell away. For the first time she really understood how much she didn't fit in here, how people hated her here. And she couldn't blame them, she was a murderer, she'd stabbed someone to death, she'd stabbed Harry! How could anyone want to put themselves in danger from her? And no matter how much support Harry, Ron and Hermione tried to give her, she realised they must be just as frightened of her, Harry must have been worried she'd try and finish what she started, Hermione and Ron were just waiting for her to flip. 

She entered the common room and viciously wiped the blood from her split chin on her robes and the tears that were falling down her chin, before walking towards her dormitory staircase. She was glad the others didn't seem to notice her. She raced up the stairs and threw the books onto her bed. All she could think about was the sound of their laughter, laughing as she hurt herself, laughing as she cried. The laughter that bounced around her head, turning her hard-earned happy thoughts into meaningless whispers of words which drifted away. 

She leant against the wall in between her bed and wardrobe and pressed her hands over her ears, hoping to block out all of the noise, all of the accusations, the hate, the prejudice. Couldn't anyone see she was still just Catalina? She let the tears course down her face and slid gently to the floor until she hit the ground with a bump. 

She hugged her arms around her legs tightly and leaned her head against the smooth wood of the wardrobe and just let the tears fall. Why wasn't she allowed to live like everyone else? Why couldn't she laugh and joke and tease and flirt like everyone else? Why wasn't she allowed to love like everyone else? She leant her forehead onto her knees and rocked herself slightly, stemming the flow of the tears slightly.

It had been unprovoked, their had been no need for it, and there was nothing she could do about it. Even if she were to report it to Dumbledore (which she wouldn't) she would have a list of names as long as her arm of bullies and it wasn't worth the bother. And worst of all perhaps for her, was the fact that Ginny had been there, in the crowd. She had known Ron's sister wasn't any particular sort of friend, but she'd never thought of her as an enemy before. She guess she had just assumed that because of Ron, Ginny would be on her side. All those faceless individuals she could handle - but Ginny was a little too close to home for comfort.

Yet she decided to do nothing about it. She didn't even tell Harry, Ron and Hermione about it - they believed the cut on her chin had come from her tripping up some stone stairs on the way to astronomy. 

As she skulked around the school, desperate to hide from everyone's accusing glares, Malfoy on the other hand was strutting around as if he owned the place again. His father was back from his 'business tour' in America, which apparently had been well publicised in the Prophet. This had caused Harry no amount of grief as it was obvious to him, as well as a great many other people, that Lucius Malfoy had been in Europe, conducting the masses of crimes that popped up in the paper every day. It galled him to see that money could bring you anything in big enough quantities. Malfoy senior had half the Government and Media eating out of his hand.

What with the unexpected rise in anger against Catalina, Malfoy continuing baiting of Harry, Snape's frankly hideous extra lessons and a mountain of coursework piling up, nerves were stretched. Ron and Hermione had officially ended the honeymoon period of their relationship and were settling into swiping again, which were becoming more frequent as the days progressed. Harry had to worry about Remus's departure to Germany, the reason why Sirius wasn't answering his owl's, the Prophecy, Poland as well as the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Whereas Catalina was still being bombarded daily by the red letters as well as post from Dr Rahn confiding in her that her mother was becoming more unwell (though she told no one about this either).

Nerves were stretched and sooner or later something had to give - just what did was enough to ensure that two of the Gryffindor Dream Team might never speak to each other again.

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AN/ Howdie there peeps! Well I am successfully managing to survivie university life _and _write HP fanfic! How proud of me are you? Saying that, I have read _any _of my textbooks yet Eeps Oh well…

Hope you liked the chapter - thought we etter get a glimpse of a bit of real evil for the first time in almost the whole story so far!

Please review - I welcome EVERY comment! I have been feeling depressed by the notable lack of reviews in my inbox L Sobs Don't you love me anymore?

Archie - Well then Nick, you'll just have to wait like all the other readers now you impatient Orc! How goes you and you gf Lauren? Why don't you try mailing me once in a while little bro!?

**dementorchic** - I know, I couldn't really let them spend their whole lives ahting or awkward around each other! Grimbits is going to be a high point - I garuntee it! Just one question to get you a-thinking; What would they be like _drunk_? sniggers Thanks for the review, as ever!

**Dragon Tamer47** - Methinks there is a definite note of sarcasm in your review! I'm sorry that Catalina and Harry don't throw themselves at each other every time they're alone but I'm trying to do canon here, not romanticism. That aside, I still appreciate your comments - more shall be done!

**goldensnitch3** - Have been writing, have been writing! In the UK, orientation is known as Freshers Week and I have now successfully completed mine! I am now fully paid up member of the British University system! Wohoo! feels old Glad you liked!

**NasserPotter**** -** Sorry about the R/H fluff! I figured if we couldn't get Harry and Catalina fluff we ought to get some! But I'll try and tone it down for you! I also guessed H and C are pretty special coughs::obvious::coughs so I'm thinking that their first kiss ought to be even more special! 

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Oxi-Nu - Just for you and your weird qwerty keyboard writing, I have written more! Thanks for the review!

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Teaser Trailer : 

"God, you're insane," he said almost in wonder, pinching the bridge of his nose, "you really are…can't you hear yourself?"

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Toodle pips till next time folks!


	22. Entropy Rising

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RATED for some swearing.

IMPORTANT: As you all know, it is November 11th today, Remembrance Day, so before you continue, I would like you all to give a moments thought to the brave soldiers throughout time who have fought for the freedoms we enjoy today. Thank you.

~*~*~ Chapter Twenty One ~*~*~

Entropy Rising

The Gryffindor team stood shivering in the middle of the Quidditch pitch as the cold September air whipped their cloaks around them. It wasn't ideal flying conditions but they'd been in much worse. Harry was finding it hard to settle into the role of captain - he really had a problem with ordering people about and telling them what to do. Instead of saying 'do this' or 'do that', he'd casually suggest 'will we' and 'would you like to'. He was getting the feeling the others could tell as well and they had already begun showing a slight lack of respect.

He didn't particularly care though, once up in the air the Seeker was usually the least important member of the team - up until the moment the Snitch needs to be caught that is. Stay high and fly like an eagle was Harry's technique.

So he began them on warm up laps and let the Beater brothers practise with one Bludger between themselves as the Chasers were pitted against the Keeper. Sarah Bell and Ginny Weasley accompanied Catalina as the team Chasers and Harry decided to take some down time and watch their technique together.

They rose together as a triangle and began to spread out, Ginny threw the Quaffle to Sarah who returned it again. They continued down this vein for sometime and Harry became more and more angry. On several occasions the Quaffle was swapped between these two players when Catalina was in a much better position not only to catch, but also to score. And more than three times the Quaffle dropped to the floor when an awkward pass was attempted by the two when Catalina was goalside. 

"What are you doing Ginny?" yelled Harry from the sidelines, "pass the Quaffle…I SAID PASS THE QUAFFLE SARAH!"

Ron shot Harry a puzzled look, before shrugging helplessly and continuing to circle his goals as the Quaffle dropped to the floor a fourth time. The more he watched the more he didn't like and his irritation with the players came to a head when Mark sent the Bludger wheeling towards Catalina who was some 50 feet away in the opposite direction. 

It smacked her on the side of her forehead as she hadn't heard Harry's shouts but was alerted by the sound of the Bludger whistling towards her. She was ok, it hadn't drawn blood and she was still sitting upright, though in a considerable amount of pain - enough was clear from Harry's view from the stands.

He raised the whistle to his mouth and let out two piercing whistles, which got all their attention. 

"RIGHT! EVERYONE DOWN _NOW_!" he hollered, motioning wildly for them to descend.

The Beaters landed first, followed by Ron, then the Chasers. Catalina was the last to touch down as she had to guide in with one hand as the other was clasping her head and she stood at the end of the rank looking every bit as guilty as the assembled players.

"What the _hell _do you think you're doing?" he yelled to everyone.

Harry glared at them all, angered even more by their forced innocent expressions and apparent lack of any remorse.

"Come on!" he said, "Come on, tell me what on _earth _that was all about! Because I have absolutely no idea!"

Everyone shuffled guiltily.

"What were you doing?" he demanded in a steady voice this time.

"We were doing the Hawkshead Attacking -," began Ginny defiantly before Harry cut her off.

"Don't give me that crap!" he yelled at her furiously, causing Ron's sister to visibly flinch, "You know what I'm talking about!"

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Catalina place her broom down on the ground as she leaned heavily against the stands railing and it only served to make him angrier. 

"Mark!" he shouted, turning to the young boy who shifted anxiously, "I don't know where to start! Firstly what the hell were you doing hitting it away from you and towards other players? Secondly, what was it doing going the other way? And thirdly why the fuck didn't you stop it!"

"I tried," shifted Mark guiltily, "I wasn't fast enough…"

"You're a Beater! What the hell do you do during practises and games if you can't catch a half speed Bludger!" roared Harry, flinging his own broom on the floor.

"I'm sorry…" he apologised sincerely, shuffling his feet worriedly.

"Get back inside," said Harry, "pack up your things and I'll speak to you later."

The boy hurried off inside, his twin watching him go, looking as if he expected to be blessed out as well. Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes wearily.

"Ron, Daniel, you get off too," directed Harry, maintaining a steady gaze at the two Chasers, who had moved closer together protectively, "pack away the things and I'll see you at next practise."

Ron looked torn between demanding to stay and anger at Ginny's behaviour and in the end settled for walking away abruptly. Harry waited until Ron and Daniel had carried the trunk away, stopping briefly to speak to Catalina, who had sat down on the stand now, hand protectively covering the side of her head. Harry watched her give a reassuring smile to the two boys causing Harry to shake in fury at the two girls standing in front of him.

"What were you playing at?" asked Harry as calmly as possible.

"I _told_ you, we were trying the Hawkshead -," began Ginny again.

"Stop," said Harry angrily, "stop right there! Firstly you need THREE Chasers to do that move, which is funny because I only saw TWO!"

"We can't help it if she wasn't following!" said Sarah defensively.

"No. Don't blame this on her! Four times you dropped the Quaffle today because you chose to pass to each other rather than passing the ball. Countless times I've watched you fuck up the simplest things because you are REFUSING TO PLAY AS A TEAM!"

They stood resolutely silent in front of him, and he paced in front of them. He'd seen immediately what they were doing, and he was pretty sure he knew why, but the thought made him almost sick with anger and fear. He thought he could cope with the nameless students treating Catalina like the Death Eater scum they were all calling her, but not when it was people he knew, close people, Gryffindor's…almost _family_.

"Why were you doing it?" asked Harry, raising his hand to his throbbing temple.

"Doing what?" asked Ginny innocently.

Harry gave a huge irritated sigh and paced again.

"How many Chasers are on a Quidditch team?" he asked.

They looked each other before their gaze flickered towards Catalina.

"HOW MANY?" roared Harry as the girls shrank back.

"Three."

"So why don't you play with three fucking people? Just give me your reason!"

They said nothing.

"I wouldn't even expect this kind of dirty, rotten behaviour from a Slytherin! Let alone my own team! Have you got no brains in those heads of yours?" he yelled, voice feeling hoarse now.

"I'm not standing here and listening to you yell at me just because your girlfriend can't fly," said Ginny, eyes blazing towards him, "you've got no right!"

She began to march off and Sarah jogged after her after a moments indecision. Harry whipped round, not sure how to react to this mutiny just knowing that he still hadn't had his say.

"Get back here right now!"

"No," she shouted over her shoulder, "you can't tell _me_ what to do!"

"I'm still your captain, and you're still part of this team!" shouted Harry.

"Well not any more then!" she shouted back, whipping around and pointing a shaking finger at Catalina, "not while _she's _still here! I quit!"

She stalked off and Harry was left standing in the middle of the pitch feeling completely riled, shocked and basically terrible. He rubbed his face dejectedly, he wasn't cut out for this job - less than a month and he'd already lost one Chaser, had another two that couldn't play together, and soon to have three more members leaving.

He however forgot about Quidditch for a moment and jogged over to where Catalina was sitting, hand still covering the point of impact. He crouched down in front of her and searched her eyes worriedly.

"Are you ok?"

"Fine," she said shortly, though Harry could tell she wasn't.

"No you're not," Harry said, brushing off her comment, "are you hurt badly?"

"I'm not hurt," she said impatiently.

She clambered to her feet, tottering slightly before picking up her broom. 

"Come on," said Harry jumping up after her, "let me see."

"There's nothing wrong with me!" she said irritably, rushing off with her hand over forehead still.

"You might need to go to the hospital wing," he said in a measured voice, angered by her tone of voice.

"I'm _fine_! Leave me alone!" she said harshly.

"For Gods sake Catalina, I'm trying to help you!" he snapped at her.

"I don't need any help!" she said shrilly as he walked after her.

She was striding along at a fast pace and Harry jogged to catch up grabbing her arm to try and stop her.

"Get off me!" she cried, smacking his arm away with no little force leaving him feeling furious.

"Stop doing that!" yelled Harry exasperatedly as she stormed off, "You can't keep pushing me away all the time! One minute you want to kiss me and the next you're acting like you hate me!"

She whipped around so they were standing over ten metres away, but shouting at each other as if they were standing next to each other. It was only then he saw her bruise, already a livid purple on the left side of her temple, so swollen it looked like there was a hard boiled egg placed there.

"That's not fair and you know it!" she yelled at him shakily, "that is _so_ not fair! I'm trying to do this but I can't when I've got a school full of people that hate me and taunt me and tease me! I can't do it anymore, not with having to worry which person going to aim another spell at me, or another fucking Bludger! I'm sick of this school, this place, these people, _everything!_ And I can't do this bloody thing with you always around, driving me insane expecting things of me!"

"I'm driving you insane? _I'm _driving _you _insane?" Harry cried out, "Fine! Right! Ok - I give up! Is that ok? I'll leave you alone from now on and you can see if you can get through the day!"

"I don't need you to survive!" she screeched, "I was fine on my own before and I'll be fine on my own again!"

"No you're _not_ though! You're _not_ fine!" Harry shouted, throwing his broom back down to the floor again in fury, "You haven't been fine for a long time! Why can't you just get over it? Why do you always have to live in the past?!"

"You have no idea what's happened to me! You don't know anything about me at all!" she spat back, "You haven't the first clue about what they can do!"

"I do and you know it! You're not the only one around here who's got a past they don't want to remember! You forget you're not the only one who's seen what they're capable of! Well here's a newsflash for you Catalina, the whole world does _not _revolve around you!"

She glared at him for a few moments before making a noise of disgust in the back of her throat and spinning on her heel. Harry was practically shaking with fury now and couldn't help balling his fists, trying to fight back the torrent of bitter thoughts cramming his throat, failing miserably.

"Fine, run away, just like you always do!" he said bitterly watching her retreating figure.

"Shut the fuck up!" she screeched, spinning around again.

Harry was shocked to see she had tears running down her face but the worry didn't penetrate far enough into his anger for him to think about it. He just couldn't believe she was treating him like this after all the hours and days and _months_ he'd spent worrying about her, defending her, loving her.

"I'm not going to just shut up because you don't want to hear the truth!" 

"Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!" she yelled, practically jumping up and down in fury.

In a moment of odd clarity Harry thought how mad she looked, not angry mad, just _insane _mad. He could almost believe the web of lies being spun by the journalists every day as he watched her in fury and frustration as she battled her tears, looking desperate to lay into him again.

"God, you're insane," he said almost in wonder, pinching the bridge of his nose, "you really are…can't you hear yourself?"

He knew he shouldn't have said it, but he was too furious, too tired of everything to carry on pretending that they're lives were making any sort of sense, any sort of progression. She looked as if she'd been slapped in her face at his words however, tears rolling down her face freely now.

"I can't believe that you would say that to me…I can't believe I _ever _thought I loved you!" she choked, wrestling something off her wrist and throwing it at him, "Here!"

He watched as she run full pelt across the grounds and into the descending gloom until she was out of sight. He let out a roar of frustration and desperately wished he had something he could punch right now, _anything_. 

She was so unreasonable! So quick to forget everything he'd done for her! So wrapped up in her own little world of worries to notice what was happening to everyone else! He forced himself to take a few steadying breaths.

How had that fight happened he asked himself, one minute everything was ok and the next…

It was only then that he saw what was on the floor. A silver bangle in the shape of two snakes, emeralds for eyes, lying in the damp grass expectantly. His Christmas present to her last year. He bent down and picked it up and stared at it for a moment feeling a huge cloud of depression and anger settling over his head.

Fine, if that was the way she wanted to be, he thought to himself bitterly.

Hefting it back he threw it with all of his might towards the choppy water of the black lake. With a faint 'splunk' it hit the water and sank without a trace. It didn't make him feel any better though.

Fine.

He didn't care either way, he rambled on in his head, fine, she could be like that, fine.

"FINE!" he yelled towards the castle, hoping she'd hear, "I DON'T CARE!"

*

Catalina woke up feeling furious. It didn't creep up in her like it usually did in the morning, she didn't have that few seconds of peace and happiness before the world dawned on her - it was already there. She must have been dwelling on it all night and the ache in her jaw and the dust from her teeth grinding was enough to tell her she had been clenching her jaw in her sleep.

For the first time since she'd started Hogwarts that year, she wasn't depressed in the morning, just furious. In fact fury wasn't a strong enough word, hate, anger, wrath, rage…all of them suited her just fine. Oh, how she hated him, hated, hated, _hated _him. Acting as if he loved her and cared about her, then just as soon as he got bored and couldn't get what he wanted he decided she was insane…selfish…blind, that she was self-centred…

Well she'd show him - she didn't need his help, or his so-called love and affection, she didn't need some…some…some stupid haired, four-eyed, pathetic little _idiot_ to constantly follow her around. No sir-ree, Catalina Firelight was well suited to loneliness, she preferred it in fact. This had been the reason she'd done as her parents had asked last year and tried to stay away from Harry Potter, from them all, friends were more bother than they were worth. 

Friends, pah! Who needed them? Certainly not her!

She clambered out of bed and threw on some clothes, a million miles away with thoughts of the various vodoo curses she'd learned in her third year school. She was in such a temper that when a small, vicious looking blackbird soared in through the open window bearing a red letter she merely yanked it off its legs and ripped it to pieces without a thought and was striding down to the dinner hall before anyone else was stirring. She ate her breakfast quickly before heading out of the double doors and onto the frost bitten sweeping lawn of Hogwarts towards Hagrid's cabin. She saw his giant figure bent over the water butt outside his cottage, smashing the ice with a stick and dropping the sheets to the floor.

"Catalina, Good mornin!" he said brightly when he spotted her, "What brings yeh down 'ere at this time of the day?"

"Morning Hagrid," she said pleasantly, surprising herself at how normal her voice sounded, "just come to check on my dragon."

"Ah, right, I see," said Hagrid looking suddenly shifty.

"What's wrong?" she asked, a feeling of dread building in her stomach as his nervous eyes darted towards the Dragon pen.

"I was going to come and get yeh," he explained with a tear in his eye, "but it was late and…not with everything that's been going on…I don't know…"

"He's dead?" she asked in a hollow voice.

"I'm sorry love," said Hagrid looking most inconsolable, "we always knew he was going go early…what with him bein so small like…"

For some reason the loss of her pet swamp dragon seemed to have hit her harder than the loss of her friendship with Harry and she couldn't help but allow the tears to spring to her eyes. Hagrid beckoned her inside and soon there was a pot of water on the boil and a plate of worryingly red biscuits being thrust under her nose.

"I know yeh're upset," said Hagrid, sniffing himself, "but he was too weak to carry on in the end I think …he just went to sleep."

"Oh, well that's ok then," she spluttered trying to get her emotions under control. 

Hagrid poured her the tea and she sat sipping the scalding drink in silence for a while. Hagrid stoked the fire to ward of the frost that seemed to be penetrating the room and handed her a spotted handkerchief. 

"It seems like everyone getting a bit tense and upset these days," he said sadly, "I had Harry in here last night."

Swift, swooping, hot anger replaced her new found grief at the mention of his name. So he was in here last night? Playing the martyr no doubt she thought bitterly, turning everyone against her…

"Any idea what's wrong with him?" asked Hagrid, peering down worriedly into her eyes.

"I wouldn't know," she said shortly, taking a swift gulp of the tea again.

"Only it's not like him to get angry like that with his friends," said Hagrid, making her think Harry had told him all about last night for a moment, "I don't think he's ever shouted at me before…"

Hagrid looked so worried and confused for a second she felt like she could burst into tears all over again and another bought of anger flared up - how dare he make other people as miserable as she'd been since there argument? 

Not miserable, she corrected, _furious_. She didn't miss him at all.

"I wouldn't know," she repeated, getting up to leave, "listen I better go Hagrid, I've got lessons and all that. Can I come back at lunch time maybe if that's ok…I'll help you bury the dragon if you want…"

"It's already done," said Hagrid with a baleful glance at the Pumpkin patch beyond his window, "but I'll appreciate yeh company."

So with farewells and thanks completed she walked back towards the school, viewing its huge outline like a jail that she was walking back into, a prison, full of _people_.

And _him_.

*

He was already sat at his desk of Lu Tze's first Defence class when she walked in. Ever since their argument his scar on the palm of his hand had been itching, whether the two events were related or not, he didn't know, but the irritation increased when he saw her. 

He had already warmly greeted Lu Tze and introduced him to Ron and Hermione before taking their places. Instead of moving to her usual seat next to Hermione, she walked to the front of the class, exchanged a few seemingly happy greetings before she sat in the front row.

Harry narrowed his eyes at her back, feeling himself grip his quill all too tightly as he heard her shouts in his head from last night.

__

You're driving me insane.

Harry gritted his teeth and slouched down in his chair as Ron and Hermione shared an alarmed look. They knew something had gone on last night but not what, or to what extent their anger or embarrassment stretched. This however was not a normal fight they began to realise, not at all…Harry was practically seething with anger, and Catalina was sat far to straight backed and tapping her nails on the desk far too violently to be upset.

"I am Professor Tze, I will cover Professor Figg for the next three month, good morning class."

"Good Morning Professor," droned the class.

"Can the class rise to feet," began Lu Tze, walking in front of desk and fixing them all with a slow smile.

The class obligingly rose to their feet and looked down on the tiny, wrinkled monk who looked so out of place in his bright orange robe in the sea of black.

"It customary in my country to show respect to your elders," he began in broken English, "so now on, you bow, as so, when we meet, yes?"

The class shared an uneasy glance and bowed to their teacher, hands in prayer position. This was nothing new to Harry or Catalina, but the rest of the class found it strange and slightly embarrassing. 

"Good. Now, quills and parchment away, this will be a practical lesson," said the monk.

Everyone began to chatter excitedly - the last times these words had been uttered it with such hopefulness for an exciting lesson was during their first lesson with Professor Lupin all those years ago. Eagerly their equipment was put away and they sat in an expectant hush.

"Stand up now," he ordered and the class rushed to do so, "and sit on your tables, as so."

The little man levitated himself onto the desk behind him cross-legged. Everyone gasped at the display of wandless magic, and hesitantly clambered up onto their rickety desks, sitting as he instructed. The next five minutes were spent in silence, and most of the class was looking around in confusion and not a little embarrassment. They were sure the odd little Chinaman had fallen asleep on the desk and they weren't sure whether they could speak.

Harry knew what he was doing however and settled in for the ride. He used the moments silence to acknowledge the racing thoughts of his head. Through squinted eyes he looked at Catalina, feeling instantly even angrier. How could she have said those things to him last night? How could she be so cold and heartless after all he'd done for her? She just had no feelings, no _idea _what everyone else was thinking or doing, oh no, she was still too wrapped up in her own little world. 

"Now, put your hand up if you think that was a pointless exercise," instructed Lu Tze and Harry glanced around the room.

Ron shot his up straight away, with a innocent expression of his face, and others emboldened by his move also raised theirs and Harry could see their point, he also felt incredibly stupid sitting on his desk even though he knew what it was for.

"Very honest of you," he told them, "and how many of you spent most of that time thinking 'this is stupid'?"

Again the hands went up, happy that their new teacher wasn't a dragon at all and Lu Tze gave a little chuckle.

"Meditation is the key to…" began Lu Tze and Harry couldn't help but tune out.

He'd heard this lecture already and he was having difficulty paying attention anyway. He was carefully scrutinising a patch of damp on the wall, trying to block out the angry thoughts that were plaguing him. How could she! _How_ could she do this to him? She was always playing with his head, making him think this, then that. Well he was glad he was clear shot of her, at least he could get back to having his own mind and his own thoughts and not have to bother with her anymore.

"…education is the greatest gift of all. You must remember that no matter how much you hate the teachers, and the lessons and the homework in the end _learning is a treasure that will follow its owner everywhere,_" he said passionately and Hermione sat forward with even keener interest, "Is it not said that _if you do not study hard when young you'll end up bewailing your failures as you grow up_?"

Everyone nodded, clearly impressed with the mans wise words, and soon they were back in their seats as Lu Tze lectured them further on the benefits of an education. He had a horrible suspicion this was something to do with the NEWT's next year and the already well publicised coursework they would be getting. 

Harry only tuned back in when he heard the word homework being mentioned and he was shocked to see it was nearly the end of his lesson. He had tuned out for almost the entire time, and on his mentors first lesson as well!

"Until next time then my students, goodbye," he said, bowing low to them, and they repeated the motion self-consciously.

Harry got up finally and swung his bag on his shoulder in time to see Catalina stride out of the door, not even sending a look in his direction. 

"_Even a hare will bite when it is cornered_," came Lu Tze's wise voice from beside him.

"What?" asked Harry turning to look at the wrinkled face next to him.

"Nothing," he said smiling, turning to Ron and Hermione, "Did you enjoy class so far?"

"Oh yes, it was very interesting Professor," enthused Hermione, "Especially with the course you informed us we'll be doing. Is it true…"

Harry zoned out. He didn't particularly want to hear about curriculum's and coursework right now. Finally however, the introduction was over and Lu Tze was speaking to him again.

"Will you be wanting more lessons now I have returned," he asked kindly, "or is Catalina filling my job now?"

Harry felt another flare of anger, there was no way in the world he was going to take another lesson off _her_. It was her fault he had these stupid powers in the first place.

"Yes I'd like more lessons," he said shortly, "when are you free?"

"Anytime you like, tonight perhaps?"

"That would be fine," he said, "I'll see you then."

"Yes, until next class, goodbye."

The three of them strode out, walking down towards their next class with a spring in their step - all except Harry that is.

"He seems cool," said Ron appreciatively, "you were right about his sayings Harry."

"Yeah," he replied in a faraway voice.

"I can't wait for lesson to begin with him," said Hermione eagerly, "I found that meditation at the beginning really calming, didn't you?"

"Mmm," he said, a million miles away from the conversation.

"Say's you," scoffed Ron, "I thought it was dead stupid."

"That's because you were sitting there grinning and watching everyone else instead of doing what you were being told to do," scolded Hermione.

"Well that's because everyone looked so stupid doing it," laughed Ron, "Catalina couldn't even wake herself up, it was so funny -."

Harry instantly stiffened up at her name, remembering his anger and Ron sensed this a trailed off. There was an awkward pause as Harry strode along the corridor a lot faster than he had intended. 

"Harry," began Hermione awkwardly, "you _know_ you can talk to us to right…?"

"There's nothing to talk about," he said shortly, heading across the front lawn to Herbology.

"Well, we just thought that after last night -," began Hermione.

"_Nothing_ happened last night," cut in Harry.

" - that you might be feeling lonely," she finished seamlessly gazing at him with concerned eyes.

"I am capable of being on my own you know," Harry began angrily, "unlike _some _people _I_ don't have to be surrounded by people 24/7 trying to cheer _me _up."

Hermione and Ron said nothing to this.

"Don't worry about it," said Hermione consolingly, "I'm sure everything will be patched up in a few days and you'll be right as rain."

"Who's worried? I'm not worried! Do I look worried to you? Anyway maybe I don't want to patch things up!" said Harry indignantly, "Maybe I prefer it this way round!"

"You know you care about her really," she said in a small voice.

"I don't!" exclaimed Harry angrily, bitterly almost, "I don't care about her or her stupid life at all! I just don't anymore!"

Hermione shook her head in despair and disgust and Harry merely glared at her response before stalking off across the field by himself. She shared a look with Ron who gave a heavy sigh.

"Those two," he said shaking his head, "I just don't know what goes on between them…"

"It seems bad this time," she said worriedly, "I'll speak to her later…"

"I never thought I'd hear the time when Harry said that about Catalina," said Ron, approaching the greenhouse and watching as his two best friends took up different ends of the greenhouse table, eagerly watched by a gleeful Malfoy.

"What if they never make up?" asked Hermione tearfully, "I don't think I could cope it if they're like this towards each other for the rest of the term!"

"They will don't worry," said Ron, who had a niggling doubt, "Everyone's been stressed this week. They've got all this pressure on them and everyone's been on edge, its just a temporary glitch…"

"I hope so," said Hermione with a quivering lip.

It was a sign of how stressed they'd all become this week with the departure date for their respective foreign schools looming and increased Dark activity and heaps of school work that Hermione was almost in tears through the entire lesson and did almost no work. Ron was praying for the approach of the date, so they could get out of this limbo and do something about all this fear and uncertainty.

*

Catalina however didn't want to talk to Hermione that night, or the day after that and they approached the weekend at Hogwarts without barely a word spoken between the four of them. The massive Death Eater attacks had caused most of the students to drop out of the competition to join the transfer race and Dumbledore used the same excuse to announce all the other school except France and Poland were unwilling to go ahead. 

When the names of the four students were announced, no one was really surprised and although there were mutterings of favouritism, most people were glad not to be sent into a warzone. During this time Harry had begun to cool down a bit and began to worry with renewed vigour - not only was he going to a foreign country, of which he didn't speak the language, it was also going to be with a person who couldn't help but glare at him whenever they crossed paths.

Not that he didn't glare back.

He counted the occasions in his head as he sat in Divination on Friday evening, tarot cards spread out in front of him. They'd bumped into each other once in the corridor by mistake and bitter words were soon swapped, which caused Hermione to give Ron an even larger wide-eyed frightened look. Another time coming out of the Fat Lady portrait, walking down a corridor, whilst being partnered up in Transfiguration. It was if the whole world was conspiring to force them together.

The worst time had come when they passed on the way to their seats in Charms, seemingly nothing too terrible about that, but oh how wrong could you be. He didn't even remember what had started it, just that they were yelling at each other with everyone froze mid-air to listen. It seems the Gryffindor's had at least a lot better understanding of their relationship now, which soon travelled through the school like it usually did. To cut a long story short they were dismissed from the class and forced to stand outside Professor McGonagall's office until she could 'speak' to them.

But as time wore on, rather than furious, he was becoming merely slightly angry then slightly ashamed even at shouting at her. Every time however he thought about throwing in the towel and just apologising she wasn't around, or she was but she was stubbornly refusing to look his way. So in the end he just gave up, it was too tiring to maintain hostility and too much effort to try and talk to her. Even though this solved the problem of having to remember to glare whenever she was around, it began to get him down, majorly. 

He'd taken to hiding out in Hagrid's cabin, helping him with the surviving swamp dragons, which were depleting in number drastically. He'd humbly apologised for storming out of his friends cabin the night of their argument and tried to repay the favour by helping him around the grounds - drawing the line at going into the woods. He even tried to ask Hagrid's advice on what he should do, but he wasn't much help - nor were Ron and Hermione. He even wrote a letter to Sirius about it, that's how desperate he was, but his Godfather never wrote back.

And all the time he felt he was slowly being eaten up inside with guilt, which came to a head when she never turned up for a class one afternoon. After spending most of it craning around to watch the door to see if she'd come in, he finally gave up the pretence and came right out and asked Hermione.

"She's er…seeing Professor McGonagall," said Hermione, in a curiously low whisper.

"Oh, and er, why is that?" he asked casually, still copying from his textbook.

"She…ah…got into a bit of a fight," she said uncomfortably.

Harry's head snapped up, forgetting his indifference to the subject.

"What? When? Is she ok?" he demanded quickly, "what happened?"

"A group of Ravenclaw's were apparently following her, making those hissing noises, you know the ones they usually make," no he didn't know, but he urged her to continue, "apparently they got her into a right state until she just kind of…snapped…"

"What did she do?" he asked fearfully, heart hammering against his chest. 

"Nothing bad," said Hermione hastily, as Ron merely nodded in the background, "sort of yelled a bit before one of the girls swung a punch…took her by surprise a bit I think."

Harry gulped. He knew something like this would happen, he just knew it! He was proved entirely right wasn't he? She wasn't fine, she couldn't get through the day on her own. Something about what Hermione had just said however, set off alarm bells in his head.

"Why does she have to go to McGonagall if those girls started it?" he asked, abandoning his work and leaning right across to the other two.

"I don't think she's actually in trouble," said Ron with a shrug, "I think it's more of a quiet chat sort of thing, to find out what's up."

"Isn't it obvious what's up?" sighed Hermione, placing her own quill down, "she's just depressed. That potion Snape makes for her while we're in the class, I looked it up, it's a strong anti-depressant. And I mean _strong_. It's the reason she wakes up feeling so terrible, why she cry's when she gets into bed…"

"She cry's?" Harry interrupted, feeling even more guilt-laden and terrible.

Hermione nodded sadly, "She just can't seem to snap out of it, her mothers getting worse and everyone here isn't helping. And especially since your fight…oh I know it's not all your fault Harry, but she was running off anger for the first few days but now she just sits up there staring at nothing, or crying…"

Harry could feel the guilt crashing down on him now, he was making her even more depressed. He almost wished Hermione hadn't told him, all he could picture her doing now was sitting alone in the dark, sniffling to herself as he sat with the others and tried to ignore her. How heartless could he be? How selfish? She was right, he really didn't have any clue about her at all…

"I've got to do something," he told them in a panic filled voice.

"She's torn up your Yule Ball photo again," said Hermione warningly as if this would dissuade him, "That's always a really bad sigh…Just remember that."

"I don't care," he said in an anxious tone, "I can fix that too…"

****

AN/ HEYYYYYYY! She's back! So, what did we all think of the latest offering. I'm suspecting you'll all hate me, PLEASE don't, this fight scene is actually important to the plot for several reasons, and in the end you'll all see how it was for the best!

Anyway, university is going great, too many essay to write, too little time! Thank you all for your reviews AS USUAL, I love everyone of you, even if the list does seem to be getting shorter. Is my story getting worse and I'm loosing readers? sobs

**dementorchic** - Thing is, I never actually set out to be angsty and tears, I'm completely the opposite kind of person - but these pair just beg angst, and as seen, more and more is heaped on them. Sometimes i feel guilty…Then the moment passes and i dream up another way! I know, I have already written a drunk scene - its GREAT FUN!

**Dragon Tamer47** - Lols, good suggestion, but I'm afraid Ron vs. Harry will have to wait to a later episode…

**goldensnitch3** - Hey there Gloria - if and when you write your story I will be there and hoping to be the first reviewer! If you need a Beta tester, I'd be happy! Thanks for the review!

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Jen - Sorry for the long weight! I hope you've managed to occupy yourself until now! What do you think?

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Nyermen - Thank you so much! It's an unbelievable thing to be a someone's favourite story! Hope it continues to stay so high in your esteem.

**Sasinak** - Odd, but good. Nice review. Sometimes I feel that sentence perfectly describes me?!

**tokfia** - Tokfia's back! Thanks for the huge vote of confidence, it's getting harder to juggle uni life and the stories! And I know what you mean, Ginny is being a bit harsh in this story, ESPECIALLY this chapter. I don't know how but she's just morphed into this. But all IS explained, and she does redeem herself - eventually.


	23. The Drought of Peace

****

~*~*~ Chapter Twenty Two ~*~*~

The Drought of Peace

She sat on her bed and pulled out the small wooden-backed mirror from her engraved trunk. Flipping it open she carefully inspected her jaw, not too much bruising, it was just stiff. She did a few test bites and found it still worked fine. It's funny, she mused to herself vaguely, it's funny how it doesn't hurt until later. 

She had to admit, she was taken aback by the swing aimed at her, she had no time to react. But, honestly, what girl actually _punches_ another? Did they really hate her that much? Yes, the answer was yes, they really did hate her that much. Everyone did, even Harry,

Oh sure she hated him too, in a half-hearted kind of way. In a way that meant she did for a few days but now she'd give anything, _anything_, if he was sitting next to her right now, rather than the unconscious Deegie. 'Doggie' she smiled to herself without humour - that's what he always called her. He'd walk into the common room and scoop up her cat and whisper 'Doggie, I got a bone for you,' in her ear, just like that.

This simple thought made her burst into a fresh torrent of tears, as she bewailed her misery to the only thing that could stand to be around her these days - her cat. 

When after a number of misery filled minutes she finally stopped she dropped the used tissue into the bin and pulled out another. She'd told herself the last time she had a fight with him she'd never spill another tear for him, and she was here again. But she couldn't help it, everything seemed to make her unhappy these days. The fact that Hermione's dragon died, Hagrid's pumkins being ruined by a bought of leaf rot, Dr Rahn's letter saying it could be weeks now for her mother, Moaning Myrtle's pitiful wails, everything. 

She looked down at the bandage wrapped around her arm. It was all that tattoos fault, without this none of this would have happened. She wouldn't be hated, reviled, Harry would still be talking to her, she wouldn't have let her irritation at being smacked by that Bludger make her so upset.

She just wished she could be invisible, so she never had to worry about anything ever again. 

Invisible.

A thought stirred in her mind and she crawled over to her trunk, pushing aside number broken quills and finished essays to reveal a cloak that looked as if it was spun out of water and air. It glittered and shimmered in her hand and she wondered why she deserved something so special and beautiful. With an excited breath she slipped it over her head and body and sat on the edge of the bed. It was remarkable that she didn't even feel stupid, sitting alone in the dark, invisible. 

In a strange way though, she felt slightly better. Here she was, completely gone to the entire world. No one could see her, she could make it so they never had to again. She sat staring at the wall, running over some thoughts when Hermione crept into the room.

"Catalina?" she asked the darkness, although she could tell there was no one there already.

Hermione gave a deep sigh and Catalina watched her with interest and she flopped down onto her bed face down and gave a long groan.

"Everything's wrong," she muttered to herself, before drawing up her knees and attempting to nap.

Catalina realised she ought not to stay there all night, she wanted to be alone and didn't want Hermione sitting only feet away from her. She got up noiselessly and crept out of the door and down the stairs, already with a place in mind to go when she encountered someone down in the almost empty common room. 

Harry.

She stalled, trying to prepare her face with a glare before she realised with a slight jolt of strange happiness that he couldn't see her. No one could, she'd finally got her wish, she was invisible. She walked over to him and stood at the end of the table just watching him. 

He looked pale in the firelight, even paler than usual, which only served to deepen the shadows under his eyes. He was attempting to write an essay but wasn't getting far at all, he had only written two lines. He suddenly threw down his quill and rubbed his eyes firmly, casting a look up towards the girls dorm before setting back to work. She crept a little closer, feeling the old feeling of warmth and affection filter through her freezing cold heart somewhat. He was only writing a few words a minute, spending most of the time just staring at the page, quill hovering centimetres above it.

She felt more tears slide down her cheeks as she watched him, she'd been so terrible to him, he'd never forgive her now, not this time, not again. How could she have given up this, how could she have thrown it all away because she was too self-centred like he said. She moved a little closer, trying to memorise every detail of his face while it wasn't pulled into a scowl or grimace.

The quill was thrown to the parchment again, this time for good it seemed, and he pulled off his glasses wearily. He placed his face in his hands for a few moments and Catalina thought he was going to cry, before she remembered who this was and shook away the thought. Indeed a few seconds later he gave out a sudden hiss of annoyance and kicked his textbook and parchment to the ground. 

"For. God's. Sake," he cried out, kicking the edge of the table with every word.

Catalina staggered away from the table to see him pick everything up and carry on working as if nothing was wrong. She clearly wasn't the only insane person around here. But not insane insane, mad insane. She realised as she watched him work away, jaw clenched and back arched he was still very much annoyed at her. Who wouldn't be, she asked herself angrily. You all but throw yourself on him one night, push him away the next, always took him for granted, never realised what he did for her. 

And he was still angry with her, maybe forever. Eternity. Till the end of time. She'd finally done it now. She was going to spend the rest of her life alone, cold, invisible to everyone. This thought was the one that squeezed her chest the tightest, that caused her the most grief until she thought maybe she'd just slump down into an invisible pile and cry until she died. It was over now and she knew it, there was nothing she could do about it. 

And all of a sudden she saw with such clarity a way to fix everything. With that simple one thing, she could erase all the heartache she'd caused him, replace all that hurt. Make it all alright. She walked back up into her own dorm in a dreamlike state, so taken was she with this glorious image in her head. And she promised herself, tomorrow she'd speak to them, and everything would be all right. 

*

Hermione dashed down the corridor a full speed, hair and cloak flying behind her as she shuffled her books in her hands quickly. If she didn't get this essay in to Professor Snape within the next ten minutes, she was going to fail that potion. The word 'fail' echoed around her head. She'd never failed anything before in her life - how could she have forgotten about that essay?

It wasn't even written in her homework planner! Snape had given her such a triumphant look when he found out she hadn't done it. She just couldn't understand how she forgot, she knew she'd been busy and stressed lately, what with everything going on, but that was no excuse…_no excuse_.

"Hermione?" came a voice from near her.

She stumbled to a halt, and looked around, breathing quickly from the exhaustion of her running. Catalina walked up to her quickly and even in Hermione's haste she realised that the girl looked bad, really bad.

"Yeah, hi Catalina," said Hermione quickly, "what do you want?"

"Oh, I, er…" began the girl slowly, looking teary eyed - not that Hermione noticed, "I was wondering if I could talk to you for a minute?"

"Not right now, it's not a good time," said Hermione impatiently, already edging away and counting down the seconds in her head.

"Oh, right," she said looking even more downcast, "only, it's sort of important."

"Yeah, so is this essay," she said, backing away faster now, "I'll speak to you this evening or tomorrow ok?"

"There's not much time left though," she said.

"Tell me about it! Listen, I have to go," called Hermione over her back, already half way down the corridor.

"Sure," she said quietly as she disappeared round the corner, "Goodbye Hermione."

*

Ron squinted down his cue and took aim and Ginny leant on hers with an air of long suffering silence.

"Just hit the damn thing so we can all go home," she snapped.

He gave it a smack and was pleased to see it nearly went in this time. He could get used to this game. He gave a happy sigh, Hermione was on major panic alert and was currently whinging her way down the corridors in the search of Snape, so he had some quality brother-sister time to attend to.

Unfortunately, this quality time involved actually being with his sister for more than five minutes, and she was starting to get on his nerves. The trouble was, she was too much like him personality-wise, this made it difficult to stand each other for long stretches of time. But as she was convinced he was going to die in France, she was being extra nice - except it seemed, when he was beating her at pool.

"Hey Ron," came a voice from behind him as he lined up another shot.

"Alright there Catalina?" he asked vaguely, concentrating on the game.

"Yeah, I'm great…listen have you got a minute?" she asked him in a troubled voice.

He took his shot and Ginny scooted onto the table instantly, sending death glares Catalina's way - not that Ron noticed, he was too busy surveying the set up of the table.

"Not right now, I'm slaughtering her at pool," he said with a grin, "what's up?"

"It's nothing," she said hastily.

She hung back as they continued to play, dodging Ginny's weaving cue as she seemed to get in the way of every shot.

"Maybe when you've finished then?" she asked hopefully.

"You promised me two matches!" Ginny reminded him indignantly.

Ron rolled his eyes to the sky and shared a jovial smile with Catalina, who didn't return it.

"Sorry, the master has spoken," shrugged Ron.

He had a few more goes, and Catalina was still hanging around, checking her watch and looking intensely uncomfortable. 

"Only, it's sort of important," she tried again, and Ginny felt slightly curious to see she was fighting back the tears - what was Princess Catalina crying over now?

"I'll talk to you tonight yeah?" he asked

"There's not much time left though," she said.

"Tell me about it, we've only got a few days left in this place now," laughed Ron, mistaking the meaning of her words, "then I won't be seeing you for two months! Strange huh?"

She gave a little laugh and Ron took a shot, the black ball dropped into the pocket - he had won! He gave Ginny a superior smile and she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Listen, we can talk now while Ginny's setting up if you -," began Ron before noticing that Catalina was just walking out of the door, "Oh."

Ron frowned as the door slammed shut. Now he thought about it, Catalina sounded really odd just then. She sounded worried about something, upset even. Just then he remembered her and Harry's argument, that would have been it.

"For Merlin's sake," fumed Ginny quietly, "does that girl ever smile?"

"Yes," snapped Ron, defending his friend, "there's just a lot going on right now that you don't know about, alright?"

"Fine, fine," muttered Ginny, "it's your break."

*

Catalina walked back down the corridor, feeling as if the cloud of depression that was pressing down on her was actually dimming her vision. Everything looked so gloomy and bleak. She shifted the cloak and walked past the group of girls that usually hissed at her who didn't give her a moments notice. She still felt a thrill of surreal excitement knowing they couldn't see her.

She clutched the bundle in her hands tighter to her and crept up the now familiar winding staircase to the astronomy tower. She emerged into the freezing cold air, teeth already chattering and walked over to the battlements.

Everyone had abandoned her. Hermione was too busy to even stop to talk to her, Ron preferred to play some stupid muggle game, Hagrid was battling a fire in the dragon pen, even Moaning Myrtle would rather sit in the U-Bend. And Harry was nowhere to be found. Not that he would listen to her anyway she thought sorrowfully.

How did her life end up like this?

She stared out into the distance for a few minutes, teeth rattling terribly as she tried to straighten out everything in her head, she wanted to figure out once and for all why it should be her that this had happened to, who was to blame for it all. With a brief spark of fire in her belly, an anger that dimmed the gloom of depression around her she settled on who she'd blame.

Life.

She clambered up onto the dip of one battlement and stood, swaying as a gust of wind tugged at her robes around her. She breathed in deeply, placing her burden onto the ground by her feet and pulled herself up on top of the crenalation this time. And she straightened up the wind pushed her once again, so that she swayed to its tune. She closed her eyes gratefully and thought of what was to come, spreading out her arms wide so that the gale blowing around the tallest tower at Hogwarts could catch her fully, and whistle in her ears and toss her hair and tug at her robes which flapped around her ankles.

"I just want you to know," she murmured to the world, "that I blame _you_."

Satisfied that she'd said her piece, she opened her eyes again and looked around the wall, before stepping onto the nest battlement. She skipped onto the next one and began to play a game with fate, seeing how fast she could jump to the next without tripping, because that would be bad now.

After a while she became bored of this and finally clambered up onto the dip of one battlement and sat in it snuggly, leaning against one of the taller pieces of masonry. She could see everything from here, the Quidditch Pitch, across to the Forbidden Forest and out beyond to the mountains, then up into the sky. Last time she'd sat up here and looked up the stars were bright as gems, but now there was only cloud and mist. Not one single star in sight.

Even the stars had abandoned her. Somehow this made her sadder than all her friends rejections put together and she couldn't help but sob into her hands. Her plan wasn't going to way it was supposed to. Her perfect plan for putting an end to all this suffering, and anger and hate and it was already falling apart.

Oh well, there was only one thing left to do now.

She pulled out one of the glass vials, pulled out the cork and tossed it over the side. She never even heard it land. She stared at it, she even hated the colour now. Having to get up every day and look at that colour, knowing it was the only thing stopping you going insane. She raised it to her lips and knocked it back, also throwing that vial into the inky black abyss. 

Her head reeled slightly as some of the gloom lifted from her heart. She looked up, still no stars, not even one that she could focus on. She unrolled the bundle on her lap hearing the clink of glass as several vials rolled into order, all present and correct. She plucked out the next one, flipped off the cork and recalled Harry's expression during their fight.

"To Harry," she said, toasting the night, before downing that one too. 

*

Harry sat in front of the fire biting his nails. He glanced up to the girls dorm. Maybe he should just go up there now, save all this trouble. The worst she could do was scream at him some more, probably, and then at least then he'd know she was alright. He just felt so guilty and helpless sitting here while she was upstairs, probably crying, because of him.

In the end he decided to bite the bullet and walked upstairs. He took a deep breath, gathered his wits and knocked on the door. There was no answer but he decided he wasn't going let her silence put him off.

"Catalina?" he asked in a quavering voice, addressing the pitch black room.

She didn't reply and Harry sidled into the room. After a few seconds of nervous shuffling he decided to speak.

"Listen, can we just talk about the other night a sec?" he asked the darkness.

She didn't reply and Harry felt his stomach clench. She was still angry at him then.

"Come on this is silly," he begged, before waving his hand across the room, "_Lumos_."

The candles leapt to life and Harry was momentarily struck dumb by the fact that there was no one is the room. He walked over to her bed and look all around but she wasn't in here he was sure of it. How can that be, he asked himself, I just watched her come up here. He'd seen her walk into the common room not ten minutes ago, look all around her, as if for someone before proceeding up the stairs. He'd been waiting for her to come down so he knew she hadn't already.

That's when the memory struck him of her invisibility cloak. She had one too. How could he have forgotten? Right well, two could play at that game he told himself, marching out and into his own dorm. He pulled out the Marauder's Map and activated it. After a few fruitless minutes of searching he finally found her, up in the astronomy tower. He should have known she'd been there.

Placing the map back into the trunk, he gathered himself up and made for the Tower. This argument had gone on long enough, and if she wasn't going to be the one to apologise then he would, just to get out of this nightmare. 

*

She gazed up at the stars again, as if the view would be any different from the last ten times she'd checked. She felt somehow she'd feel different if they were out tonight, as if it would prove she wasn't alone - stupid she knew. With a frustrated sigh she looked down at the five other vials, still sitting pretty on her lap, looking sickeningly purple against the black velvet cloth she'd smuggled them out in. Was what she was doing right? The thought niggled away at her in a tin wheedling voice somewhere in her head.

__

Are you really that lonely?

Yes, she defiantly replied.

__

Nothing is beyond repair though really is it, now you think about it?

Yes, it really is. She'd come to rely on Harry, and now she didn't have him…well he'd been right hadn't he, the night of their argument. You see if you can last one day alone…Well she'd lasted, but not very well, and for not long enough.

She shook her head, trying to rid the worriers voice and looked around her surroundings. The last time she'd been here two men had knocked her out and bundled her onto a broom. The memory floated back to her unwilling mind, how she had come to meet her father, and how they had turned up instead. When she hadn't believed they were taking her to him, everything went black - until she woke up _there_ that is.

That's when it had all started to go wrong. That night, that day in their care, the Dark Mark, the knife…Azkabam, St Mungo's, Hogwarts. All she ever did was swap one prison for another. Well not anymore. No one would be sad to see Catalina Firelight disappear, least of all her. Maybe now she could see Anouska and Mikhail again, finally rest.

Rest in peace, as they say.

All around her she could hear the noises of all the people she'd ever met, and all the horrible things they'd ever said. How Zhou Lai had told her she had no personality, how Cindy Crew had laughed when she confessed she wanted to be a Healer. How her father had argued with her on Christmas Day about her friendship with Harry. How Voldemort and even her own father had taunted on that night. How Hermione and Ron thought games and essays were more important than her final conversation with them. How Harry thought she was insane.

Maybe she was, in a way, she mused, she must be, to be sitting on top of the tallest tower in the dead of night as the ground lingered below her feet, dancing in the vertigo. Yes she must be insane, very insane in fact.

She reached down for her third vial and flicked off the cork again, watching it for a long time before knocking it back. She's read somewhere it would take seven, she was nearly half way. She had just sent to vial spiralling into the bleak gloom as the door creaked open. Her heart hammered to life, but she didn't turn around, she knew who it was already, she always did. All at once she was visited of the memory of the night he'd followed her before, when she'd told him she'd given up, that she was tired of her life. Deja vu. 

She sat in silence, hidden in the groove of the battlements, snug in her own world. Every single one of her nerves were tingling in fear and expectation. After a few minutes of silence she heard him walking across the roof, boots crunching on the frosty stone. She tensed her back, feeling his presence behind her. But she must have been wrong because a moment later she heard him climbing into the next groove along, his face obscured by the wall between them, but she could see his legs dangling over the edge. 

He still didn't say anything yet she couldn't think of anything herself. What was there to say? She looked down at the five vials still begging for her attention and shifted uncomfortably.

"Do you hate me very much?" he asked her suddenly.

She rose her eyebrows curiously to the night before furrowing her forehead in confusion, what was he on about?

"What?" she asked, surprised at how hoarse and weak her own voice sounded.

"Do you hate me very much?" he repeated, his voice flat and deadpanned. 

She tried to understand how this Harry fitted into her knowledge of their fight, and their history and all manner of other things that told her this was not how things were supposed to be going. He was supposed to be furious with her.

"No," she said honestly, an answer much different to that of a few days ago.

Another silence, before he banged his boots off the wall a few times thoughtfully.

"And me?" she asked querulously. 

"No," he replied.

"Oh," was all she could say, staring down at the vials on her lap feeling increasingly foolish.

Not ten minutes ago her life felt like the endless gloom that stretched out tantalisingly beneath her feet - and to think, then she was ready to introduce them to each other quite abruptly. 

"I don't like arguing," said Harry eventually, the first bit of emotion leaking into his voice, "everything sounds ok when your hot-headed and angry, but then afterwards…well, you just feel like shit."

She nodded emphatically as her head pounded, before realising he couldn't possibly have seen it, and gave a hum of agreement. She held a hand over the vials now, feeling ashamed by their very presence. How could she have got the situation so wrong? Let it get so much out of control?

They lapsed back into silence, and Catalina stared at the cloudy sky.

"I hate that there's no stars tonight," she said suddenly, knowing she wasn't talking much sense.

There was a silence and she knew he was looking up as well.

"Oh the stars are always there, its just sometimes we can't see them," he said.

She felt strangely comforted by his words and looked up again. He was right of course, just because there was clouds for one night, didn't mean the stars were gone forever. Just like them. Just because they had one fight, didn't mean all was lost, _she hoped_.

"Harry, I…" she began, before giving a small laugh, "I seem to apologise to you a lot, I wonder why you put up with me."

"So do I," he laughed, and she felt another bit better.

"Well, this time I have a lot to apologise for. For everything. For being such a mardy bitch for the past half year, for messing with your head and leading you up the garden path. For not appreciating you…" she trailed off hopelessly, boy that was a long list and she was sure she'd missed some out.

"It's ok," she heard him say, "I may not understand, but I try to."

She felt her insides writhe with guilt. That's what she'd accused him of, not understanding her. And how could he, when she didn't even understand herself. What was she doing up here anyway? Thinking she'd solve everyone's worried with one swift blow?

"It's not ok though," she said sadly, "is it? You were right, I'm not fine, far from it…I just don't understand how my life ended up like this…"

"Neither do I," he said in an equally sad voice, "a combination of good luck and guesswork I suppose."

She gave a dry laugh at this, "More like shit family and the worst run on luck ever."

They lapsed into silence as she racked her brains for the others things she should apologise for. She started off from today, then for the past few days, then the weeks and months until her head was swimming with all the terrible things she'd done, consciously or not. How do you repay a friendships worth of faults?

She gave a dry laugh at this thought, before telling him in a vague sort of way, "They call it the Curse of the Firelights you know. We all die alone or unhappy. Looks like I've already booked my ticket."

Harry didn't say anything and she thought about it some more.

"What's _wrong _with me?" she asked him suddenly, in a pained voice, "Why do I keep doing this to us?"

"How do you mean?" he asked her slowly.

"Well, I don't understand why I keep just breaking everything apart all the time - I never give anything a chance do I? I just ruin _everything_ -"

"It's not ruined," Harry interrupted, "just a glitch."

"There's always a glitch though," she cried, "I seem to be on a one way destruction mission of my own life! Why do I not let things get fixed, go right, be happy? Have you noticed that? Every time something gets better, I seem to be working doubly as hard to make it go wrong?"

"You can't blame everything on yourself," Harry told her quietly, "circumstances haven't been so good lately."

"Chuh, circumstances," she muttered, "lets face it, I'm cursed…we're cursed aren't we?"

"No," said Harry vehemently, "It's just…we seem to live in interesting times."

Harry didn't want Catalina to think about think such as curses, because this always put him in mind of other things that revolved around divination - including prophecies. He had never told Catalina bout the book of prophecies Dumbledore owned, which detailed Harry's life, and even Catalina's…He had always thought, that to begin to worry about such things would be paramount to believing in them. And once he admitted that, he admitted he had no control over his life - that his beginning, his middle and his end were already decided, and he had no choice to accept the fate that someone had dictated he should follow.

"That's a Chinese curse you know," she said vaguely.

"What?"

"'May you live in interesting times', it's meant as a curse in Chinese."

"Oh," he said, thinking of nothing else he could say.

He had run out of apologies, of understanding comments, of everything. He was just tired of this continuous situation they seemed to be stuck in. One step forward, two steps back, like she said. He had sometimes treacherously wondered what it would be like if he'd never met Catalina, and although the thought was more painful than he could cope with, sometimes, he just wondered…

But then he remembered better times and the fleeting thought was banished, he knew that one day, this period of his life would be looked back on as the horrible bits a memory tried to gloss over. The sort of time which a couple would look back on and laugh about. Whenever he needed reminding, he just thought about the Yule Ball. That was what got him through most things, remembering the wonderful night they'd had. How, for a few hours at least, they had been together, and happy and carefree. More of a couple then than they were now. 

"I'm sorry," she said suddenly, "for what I did. I always manage to mess things up."

"It wasn't all your fault though," he said from his position, "I'm sorry for saying that you weren't capable of looking after yourself, or that you were living in the past and the world didn't revolve around you…I was being a bit of a general git really."

"But you were right…" she said softly, with sudden realisation, "you were right…the world _doesn't_ revolve around me and I forget that. And I do live in the past, dangerously so. And I can't look after myself can I, just look at me now."

She looked down at the vials in disgust. It was just like Harry had said, when the going got tough, Catalina got a-running. Never content of sorting things out she was always opting for the easy way out and tonight was no exception.

"I don't care, I still shouldn't have shouted at you," he said ashamedly, "and I shouldn't have said I didn't care…because I do…"

"It's ok, I understand," she said ruefully, "or at least, I try to."

He gave a small laugh and silence descended once again. But this time it was amicable, comfortable silence, much different from their latest hate filled one.

"So, we're good?" she asked in a slightly timid voice.

"We're good."

After a few minutes she saw him pull his legs out of sight, and she then the sound of them being planted on the frosted roof with a crunch. She also spun around until her own boots touched solid ground, and was confronted by the figure of Harry, standing a metre or so away, leaning against one of the walls looking semi self-conscious. He gave her a wary smile, which she returned, feeling unused muscles being pulled into action. He didn't look so good she noted with distress, too pale and sad - her fault of course. 

"Hermione told me something," he blurted out suddenly, "er, something I wanted to ask you about…"

"Go ahead," she said, tucking her hair behind her ears in the hope of having something to do other than sitting and being studied.

"She said you were depressed," he said, looking sad, "even before we, you know, fell out?"

"I am, was, whatever," she admitted, giving a sigh and studying the faded knee of her robe, "you knew that."

"Yeah," he said awkwardly, "but I didn't know _know_ that."

"That's because we never talk," she said out loud before she could censor herself, "not about important things anyhow."

She expected him to flat out deny it, or at least be angry but he merely nodded his head in agreement.

"So let's talk then," he said, sliding his back down the wall until he was sitting down on the floor.

"What…now?" she asked, feeling slightly unprepared.

"Yeah," he replied, beckoning her to sit down on the roof too, "Though I'm not really very good at this sort of stuff I must warn you."

"Alright," she said, deciding what was the harm, and sliding off the cold battlement until she was sat on the floor facing him, "what do you want to talk about?"

"Nah, that's not how it works," he replied, "you just have to say the first thing that comes to mind. I've watched movies they're always about this stuff…"

She gave a grim smile and racked her brains. There was a lifetimes worth of things that were getting to her depressing her, where would she begin. They sat in silence for a long, Harry patiently waiting while she searched for the beginning of it all.

"My father," she said later on, "that's what it all boils down to."

He nodded, he knew that, he thought that was where they should start but he had bet anything she wouldn't be even prepared to say his name, let alone speak about him.

"I just keep thinking," she said in a scared whisper, "what if I'm like him?"

"You're not," said Harry vehemently, "you _know _your nothing like him."

She gave a worried nod and drew her knees up to her chin, "I just don't understand it…how I couldn't have noticed, how I didn't know, didn't realise what was going on…all those people we met abroad - how many of them were _Death Eaters_…how many people he's…he's…_killed_."

"They'll catch him," Harry told her confidently, not sure if this would make her happy or not, "They'll catch him and then he'll pay."

"But what if they don't?" she said, avoiding his eyes, "what if he doesn't get caught? He'll come after me, remember what he said, 'the power of the Magus must be destroyed.' That means me…and you, we're not safe from them…they're coming after us and all we can do is sit and wait."

"We'll get to him before he gets to us," said Harry, "this is the whole reason we're going to Poland remember. Find the web of supporters and break it, trace where he is…then this will all be over."

"But that's not all is it? It's not just about him anymore. It's about all of them. We get rid of one, and two will just replace them."

"I know," he said placing his own chin on his knees, "but there's nothing we can do at the moment. Just to be careful."

She nodded and they lapsed back into silence.

"We never got on you know, me and my father," she explained to him, "He was always too strict and serious for me, all I ever wanted to do was laugh and play but he would never join in. He was so much older than my mama you see, fourteen years older - that's a lot time I always thought, so it sort of distanced him from us. It was always just me, mama and Mi…"

She broke off looking grief stricken for a moment and Harry sat up attentively. She looked across to him and he was surprised to see she had teas in her eyes.

"Me, mama and Mikhail," she finished.

There was an ominous feeling in the air now, and Harry felt suspicious of this sudden change.

"Who's Mikhail?" he asked in an even voice.

Again she looked at him for a few more seconds longer than necessary and Harry gulped as a single tear rolled down her pale face.

"My…my brother."

****

*

Harry stared at her in shock. Her brother? She had a brother? He'd never heard of him, seen him, she'd _never _spoken to him about having a brother before. She was an only child, everyone knew that - the only heir to the Gryffindor property and blood. He suddenly wondered if she'd finally flipped.

"Your…brother?" he repeated slowly.

She nodded just as slowly and brushed away her tears resolutely.

"Brother?" he repeated, just to make sure he'd heard her right. 

"He was two and half years younger than me," she told him her voice void of emotion now, "he was born when we were in south Africa, no one ever knew about him here because we had gone by then, no one knew where we were."

Harry couldn't get his head around the new information. She had a brother? She had a fourteen-year-old brother somewhere and she'd never told him…

"We were best friends we were younger, he was the sporty one and I was the clever one apparently. Odd to think now hey?" she asked with a slight laugh that seemed totally out of place in this conversation, "He wanted to be a Quidditch player when he was older…for the Lvov Lions…"

"Your favourite Quidditch team," Harry said, still too much in shock to say anything half way intelligent.

"That's why they're my favourite team," she said with a crooked smile, "I had season tickets to them, badges, scarves, robes, everything."

"Where is he?" asked Harry suddenly, regaining the use of his voice again.

She gave him a confused look, cocking her head onto one side as if she didn't understand his question.

"He's dead."

Harry reeled in shock for the second time that evening.

"Oh," was all he could seem to get out.

She didn't say anything and Harry tried to get his thoughts in order and reconnect his voice box to his brain.

"How…I mean, what happened?" he stuttered.

"He fell off his broom when we were playing in the back garden," she shrugged as if it was nothing, "broke his neck when he hit the floor, died instantly they said."

"That's terrible," said Harry, not sure what you were supposed to say to news like this.

"It was," she said, shrugging again, "But I was only 11 at the time. I was starting school in less than a month and he was upset he wouldn't get to play with me anymore. He wanted to play Quidditch, like he always did, so we went out to the garden."

She drew in a shaky breath, and continued her story, voice almost monotone as she stared off into the distance.

"We weren't meant to play on our own, I knew we weren't supposed to, but how do you stop him? He wanted to be a seeker you know, tried to do a stupid trick. He must have known it wouldn't work, but he never had any fear of flying. It happened so quickly, one minute he was there, the next not. I never really understood it, still don't."

"And mama was so upset, and my father…well…well my father blamed me," she said sadly.

"What? Why?" asked Harry, feeling anger towards the man for not the first time.

"I was supposed to be looking after him. He always liked Mikhail more anyway, because he was a boy you know, and could carry on the family name and everything."

Harry felt even angrier now, but pushed it to the back of his mind. Catalina didn't look upset, merely blank, empty, as if she'd used her last bit of emotion telling him this. 

"But that was just his way you know. He'd always been strict and angry and aggressive. If he'd acted any different I would have got a shock. I just never suspected him of…I never thought he could do that…"

She lapsed into silence and Harry tried to picture the family of four as it was and the secret son that no one knew about - not even the press. It saddened him slightly, that this person was alive and no one save for three people would grieve for him. 

"All I keep thinking about is him now," she said suddenly, "it's his birthday in a few days and it just hits home stronger. I keep thinking history is going to repeat itself, because of mama being in hospital and getting worse. I keep thinking about Mikhail going, and then maybe her, and I'll be all on my own again."

"Your mum will be ok," said Harry confidently, "she's just had a shock."

"No, she won't Harry," said Catalina just as confidently, "Dr Rahn told me."

"Oh."

They sat in silence for a long while, and Harry looked up into the sky, still no stars. Catalina was right, it was depressing. He could see why she was so upset, loosing her brother, her mother so ill, her father god knows where doing god knows what and having to put up with everybody here acting like they were. He felt even guiltier for what he'd said during their argument now. He was so sure he knew Catalina so well, that he didn't stop to think maybe he still had more to learn about her.

"You'd have liked him," she said, looking at Harry thoughtfully, "both liking Quidditch and being a Seeker and all. He was a right laugh, much better sense of humour than me."

"You've got a sense of humour," said Harry with a smile, "you just don't use it much anymore."

"I know," she said heavily, "I try to, but I'm so self-conscious. And when I'm happy I feel bad because I shouldn't _be _happy. Not with mama, and Mikhail and my father and what I've done."

"If there's anyone that deserves a bit of happiness Catalina it's you," said Harry, "stop thinking you don't."

She nodded, not convincingly and Harry stretched his legs slightly.

"Thanks Harry," she blurted out, "for this…for everything, as usual. You don't know how much it means to me."

I think I do, thought Harry to himself.

"So promise me no more bottling stuff up?"

"I promise," she laughed, "If you promise the same."

"Of course."

He climbed to his feet too, feeling infinitely happier than a few hours earlier when he had been scouring the castle for her hopelessly. 

"What have you got there?" he asked, nodding to the bundle in her hands.

Her heart suddenly leapt against her ribs. She'd forgotten she still had the vials on her lap and now they were sitting there, black velvet folded over them in a conspicuous manner. She thought about inventing some story, or lying, but she couldn't find the courage to do so.

"My solution," she told him hoarsely.

"Solution to what?" he asked, smiling at her encouragingly.

"To my life," she said in such a way that his smile began to slide from his face.

With slightly shaking hands she peeled away the black velvet, the vials clinking together innocently as they became exposed to the cold air. She dreaded his reaction, she truly did. He stared at them for a long time, then moved more into the light so he could see properly. She covered them up again, feeling they were staring at her accusingly. 

"Wha -," he began, before clearing his throat and trying again, "I mean…what are they?"

"The Drought of Peace," she told him timidly, staring down at her hands to avoid his gaze.

"Wha…what did you…I don't understand," he told her, struggling to find the words.

"It was my solution," she told him in a stronger voice this time, "to everything that's happened, I couldn't handle it anymore…"

"So you were going to kill yourself?" he asked her incredulously, horror lacing his ever word.

Catalina swallowed guiltily and flinched at his use of the word _kill_. It was as if voicing what she had been doing, giving a name to it, made it more real. It sounded so stupid now, she realised that, but how had it seemed so perfect before, so tempting?

"I couldn't see any other way out of it…" she told him, voice barely above a whisper, "I just feel like I'm stuck in this horrible murk, just going round and round in circles, and that it's never getting any better. Like I'm never going to be _me _again, you know?"

"So you were just going to leave us?" he asked her, "leave me?"

"I had no other option," she told him, eyes filling up with tears, "you hated me, the students did, the public, _I _hate myself. I just wanted an end."

"I can't believe you were going to do that," he said hollowly, holding a hand over his eyes for a moment.

Catalina flinched again.

"You should have known that no matter how many stupid fights we have I would _never _stop - I would _never _hate you ok? Ever. And if you weren't around I'd - I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to you…"

She was so taken aback by his choked words she didn't know what to say. With every passing moment her plan was becoming decidedly more foolish until it was downright idiotic. It would be an easy way out for her, but what about the others? She never stopped to think what they would feel if she committed suicide, she hadn't thought they'd feel anything. 

"How many did you take?" he asked her suddenly, as if fearing the worst had already been set into motion.

"Three…" she mumbled.

"And how do you feel?" his anxious voice asked.

"I'm fine," she said, "a little headache but that's all."

"Ok…ok…" he said, almost speaking to himself, "do you think it's done anything, or will do anything?"

"No…it's an anti-depressant not a poison Harry," she told him, protective hand over the vials.

He strode forward and lifted the whole package out of her hands, hefting it over the side into the inky blackness. He turned back to her and squatted down in front of her, fixing her with the most confused, hurt look she'd ever seen on his face.

"Did you not think about me?"

She had no clue how to even begin to answer that question.

"Harry," she began awkwardly, "it was _because_ of you…I could face loosing everyone else, but not you…"

"It was just a stupid fight though Catalina," he pleaded with her, "did you not think about what would happen to me if you died?"

"What would happen?" she asked expressionlessly.

"I'd go mental…insane even, I'd be joining you within the week ok?" he told her in all seriousness, "never _ever _do anything like this to me again ok?"

"Ok," she whispered, deeply touched by what he'd said.

"You promise?" he asked her, still giving her a long searching look.

"I promise."

"Good."

He stood up straight and seemed to suddenly notice the cold about them. With a shiver he wrapped his arms around himself and took a step back.

"We better get inside," he suggested, "it's too cold out and you need to warm up."

She nodded and climbed to her feet, "Don't tell them will you?"

"I won't," Harry assured her, beckoning her across the tower.

They walked over to the door in the alcove, both reaching out at the same time for the handle. They both gave a laugh and he turned to her with a smile.

"Ladies first," he said, holding the door open.

They walked into the common room and Ron and Hermione nearly had a heart attack, cricking their necks as they did a speedy double take.

"Alright guys," asked Harry, flopping into a free sofa.

They both stared at them, confusion spread across their faces. It increased even more when Catalina sat down on the couch next to Harry. Quite close in fact. Apart from the fact they were supposed to be at each others throats, she hadn't done this for many, _many _months.

"Could ask you the same thing," said Hermione faintly, before snapping out of it, "I take it you've made up?"

"Yeah," smiled Catalina self-consciously, going rather red.

"Thank God," muttered Ron, returning back to his coursework, "maybe now we won't have two walking zombies for friends?"

Hermione chuckled and Harry settled for a glare as for the first time in what felt a long while, the four of them sat together and laughed and joked like the old times. It seemed Catalina's confession had taken a huge weight of her mind, and for the first time Harry saw a quite genuine smile from her which made his stomach drop not unpleasantly.

However, at the back of his mind was the knowledge that if he hadn't decided to apologise tonight, or that if he'd been held up, she would be dead now. Catalina would be dead, and Harry believe 101% when he said that he wouldn't be able to cope, and the knowledge that he would rather kill himself than live without her unsteadied him greatly. 

Did this mean that he valued her above everyone else he knew - more than Hermione, Ron, Sirius? He was greatly surprised, and not a little guilty to find the answer was yes. 

Was that what love meant?

He looked over to Catalina, who was laughing along with some joke Ron was telling them, hand raised over her mouth when he told them the crude punchline. She looked across to Harry with wide, disbelieving eyes, laughing at Ron, whom was being punched on the arm by Hermione, who was trying to keep a straight face. Catalina's smile faded slightly at the serious expression on his face, before he smiled widely, shaking himself slightly.

"Your mouths as dirty as your mind Ron," he joked, settling back into his chair as Catalina gave him a sidelong, puzzled look before laughing too.

Maybe that was what love meant, Harry decided, finding himself shocked by the answer, yet in some way happy as well.

****

AN/ SO! Finally, the wanderer returns with a new chapter… bow down humbly to you all and apologise most profusely for the most humoungus of waits between posts! How did you like this? Too much, too gooey, too out of character, too pointless?

REVIEWS ARE READ, REPLIED TO AND most APPRECIATED!

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mrs-osborne's-class - Again, I'm sorry for the time between postings, so much is happening in my life at the moment that I sometimes go for days shock horror without even thinking of Harry Potter - scandalous I know! I'm glad you enjoyed the argument scene, and I understand it might be hard to picture Harry swearing like that, but I was just trying to get over how utterly furious and tired he was of everything in the only way I knew how! Lols, what does that say about my vocab?

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Nyermen - I probably should have more free time than I do, with only six hours of lectures a week, but I always seem to be busy! Says something about my time management skills hey? Glad you like my action vs. will they/won't they. What do you reckon now?

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Jen - Sorry you've had to keep checking for updates so much, I promise I will be more regular from now on! I hope you like the details, as it sounds like you do, what are your theories for this one so far?

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Makotochi - Glad you liked! I'm always eager to hear different peoples ideas of what Catalina is like and how they percieve her, and the way she interacts with other characters - hopefully you haven't got bored of waiting and have come back to read more!

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FroBoy - I'm glad you liked the story, and hope your not too annoyed with the lag time in posting! What do you think opf this mess I call a plot?

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Szelij- Well, Ginny's off the team for good now, coming up soon will be tryouts for her replacement! Seamus is already on the team as Gryffindor sub-keeper, so soon he'll be playing when's Ron's off in France with Hermione!

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Preciousgirl - I hear your thoughts on computers, if it wasn't for the fact we could read fanfic on them I would banish them all to room 101! Especially internet connections! I'm glad uni is going well - hope your courses don't get you down too much - at least this is a nice holiday for us eh?

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goldensnitch3 - Hey Gloria, how's that story of yours coming along? Hope you've been doing the exact opposite of me and writing and updating it regularly! If and when you get it off the ground and on the net, link me and I'll be more than happy to read and review it! Consider it payback for all the months you've spent on mine!

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Dementorchic - I know what you mean, I am actually getting a little bit worried that I'm being too depressing! Totally opposite to my usual nature! I would say there's better to come, but there's back news ahead, but then again, it may be a blessing in disguise…lets just wait and see what you think!

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LorSparrow - Thanks ever so much! I'm glad you liked it so far, keep on reading and it may influence me to actually do something with it, rather than just ramble on about teen angst!

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Haunting Darkness - I know it's not nice to see them fighting again, but, something's need to said I think, and plus - it is a plot point (she says hopefully). With the added plus that I just like writing these scenes - much easier than gooey love scenes!

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Legolas - At long last you have something to read eh!? Glad you like my story so much you have to resort to CAPITAL LETTERS! P.S. Love the name - disappointing amount of dialog for him in film 3 isn't it - film rocked though!

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Blue Phoenix2 - Thanks a lot! Hope your enjoying the story so far…what did you think of the Firelight's Heir, the predecessor to this one?

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Dragon Tamer47 - Poland's coming, slowly but surely, and then we will actually get some action, rather than just teen angst! (she says hopefully)

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Teaser, upcoming chapter…

"She did ask to see you before…before the end," said the doctor, "please try not be shocked by her appearance."

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OHH…Well, I suppose you'll just have to wait.

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO YOU ALL! 


	24. Mrok's and Breakins

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~*~*~ Chapter Twenty Three ~*~*~

Mrok's and Break-in's

"Monday evening can mean only one thing," pronounced Dean, bouncing a silver ball off his knee, "football time!"

Harry gave a grin, of course, the long awaited football match, he'd forgotten all about it. Dean was flanked be Seamus and Neville, who were kitted out in muggle clothes, Lavender and Parvati in tow. Harry was surprised, they didn't seem the sporty type but apparently they were just going for the show.

"You up for it?" asked Dean as they gathered around the fours' table.

"Of course," said Harry at once, abandoning his homework in an instant, "guys?"

Ron jumped at the chance, as did Catalina while Hermione cast a weary glance at her homework. She could sense she'd already lost this struggle before it began and decided to graciously accept. They all headed upstairs to change into muggle clothing, the boys in jeans and jumpers and the girls almost similarly dressed. Dean managed to corral almost the entire Gryffindor Tower into joining them, so it was mass movement all around as the players and supporters alike trouped onto the Quidditch pitch.

Dean gathered around the assembled players, many of which had also come from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff (they'd seen the stampede and wanted in), and explained the game to the wizard-born families. Catalina and Hermione sat on the sidelines, ready to watch the match, feeling cheerful and happy. The re-union of Harry and Catalina meant poisoned air was now off the menu and they were all celebrating by being in an unnaturally good mood, even Catalina wasn't far off laughing most of the time.

"This should be good," muttered Hermione to Catalina as they got comfy, "they may be good at Quidditch but neither of them re particularly talented on the field."

"Ah, I'm sure they'll do grand, so they will" said Catalina in a thick Irish accent.

"What was that for?" asked Hermione, grinning at her friend.

"Just felt like a change, I've been copying your posh southern accent too long," she said, "what do you think of a Scottish, like whatshisface in Ravenclaw, or Welsh?"

"You can't just choose an accent," laughed Hermione, "you just have one."

"Well I can choose one if I want to," she said, turning her nose up in the air with fake pomposity, "so what'll it be. Shall I do Ron's Devonian one, Harry's Southeast, Dean's Midland, Seamus's Irish or what?"

Hermione stared at her for a while. She'd just put on every single one of her friends accent's on with amazing accuracy.

"What?" asked Catalina, sensing Hermione's stare.

"You must pay a lot of attention to everyone," was all she said, "to be able to speak like them like that - I didn't even _know _where Dean came from."

"Well, you have to pay attention don't you," said Catalina as the team on the pitch split up, "how else would I learn English?"

Hermione just shook her head with a laugh, and turned back to the upcoming match excitedly. They'd created goalposts by dropping a few jumpers onto the ground (we'll do it the muggle way or not at all Dean had instructed them) and then they were off. It was split into mixed teams of all houses and Hermione and Catalina had fun shouting out instructions and helpful chants as the game progressed. They were really quite enjoying it in fact, following Ron and Harry through every slide, tackle and pass. 

They had no clue about the rules, but frankly, neither did half of the players either.

Catalina blew a huge whistle with her fingers as Harry tackled a Ravenclaw, both of them sliding along the floor and scrambling up after the ball and Hermione practically went stella when Ron nearly scored.

"COME ON HARRY!" yelled Catalina, jumping up and down on the sideline as he dribbled the ball up the sideline past her.

"SHOOT! SHOOT!" added Hermione when he got near to the 'goal'.

In came a Hufflepuff to tackle him, round dodged Harry, kicking the ball towards the goal, just out of reach of Seamus's fingertips.

"YES! WOHOOO!" screamed Hermione and Catalina together, improvising a small chicken/victory dance that had half the team momentarily side-tracked.

Play resumed and the girls still hadn't quietened down, but at least they weren't alone, half the schools population had turned up to see what the fuss was about and were eagerly following this bizarre new game.

A while later, Ron ran over and handed Hermione his jumper, looking sweaty yet exhilarated.

"Hold this will you?" he asked quickly, already jogging backwards, "I'm boiling."

"Yes master," simpered Hermione, mock bowing to the floor in a style reminiscent of Dobby, "of course master."

Catalina laughed joyously, this honestly was the most fun she'd had since.since.well for a long, _long _time anyway. She gave Hermione a conspirational nudge of her elbow then wolf whistled across the pitch to Harry, who stopped fielding the left wing to look over to her.

"What?" he yelled across the pitch with a huge grin across his face.

"Get ya kit off!" she yelled back, dissolving into fits of laughter with Hermione and he merely shook his head with a laugh and continued.

The end score was around 14-12, though nobody had been counting the score, or was really sure who was on their team. But everyone looked so thrilled and exhilarated by the match (and that was just the spectators) that another was quickly being planned for sometime during the week.

Ron and Harry jogged over and the girls greeted them with fake flicks of their hair and fluttering eyelashes.

"We thought you were soooo good out there," crooned Hermione, wrapping her arms around Ron's waist.

"Yeah, real athletes," added Catalina huskily.

"Have you two been at the butterbeer?" asked Harry, spinning the football between his hands.

They dissolved into laughter again and finally composed themselves enough to hold a normal conversation.

"Sorry, you know what its like, being cooped up for a month then we're suddenly let loose, it's wild," said Hermione happily, handing Ron back his jumper.

"Don't we know it," laughed Ron, his voice muffled by his jumper being pulled over his head.

"So, enjoy the game?" asked Harry, turning to Catalina with a smile dancing on his lips.

"Yeah, it was ok I 'spose," she said flippantly, "you played good.for a guy that is."

"Ohhhh," mocked Ron, "you gonna let her impugn your honour like that mate?"

"Certainly not," said Harry in mock outrage, "you reckon your better at football than a guy?"

Catalina merely smiled at him sweetly and tried to make herself look as innocent and inoffensive as possible.

"Of course not," she said, as if he'd suggested the most ludicrous thing in the world, "what I'm _saying_ is a guy is just worse at football than a girl! I could beat you with one hand behind my back!"

Harry and Ron both scoffed, and Catalina gave them another innocent smile.

"You think so? Is that what you think?" asked Harry suggestively, "well.prove it."

"What?" 

"I said, prove it," said Harry, still spinning the ball in his hands, "you think you're better than me, then prove it."

Catalina shot a despairing look at Hermione, then before he realised what she was doing, she'd kicked up suddenly and the ball went sailing out of his hands and fell some 15 feet behind them. They all turned and stared at it for a few seconds in silence.

"Well.Beginners luck," said Harry eventually.

"You think so?" she challenged.

They locked eyes for a few moments before both suddenly darting after the ball, hurling insults at each other as they went along. He reached it before her and ran along the pitch with it as she ran to catch up with him, he suddenly put a foot on top of the ball top steady it, and she jogged past, before halting a few metres later.

She turn to face him challengingly and he grinned at her with infuriating superiority, foot still firmly on top of the ball.

"Come on then honey," mocked Harry, beckoning her forward, "see if you can get it."

"Honey?" she asked despairingly as she charged forward.

And thus ensued a bizarre game of chase the ball conducted by both teams as she gained possession, then him, twirling round in circles and the ball rolled between their feet.

"Idiot," she yelled at him, running and stumbling over the ball.

"Loser," he replied as he kicked it away from her, laughing like a maniac.

"Git," she added, running in front of him to bar his way so that they smacked into each other and stumbled slightly.

"_Girl_," scoffed Harry, trailing the ball away.

Suddenly the ball had left the floor and was flying through the air, landing smack bang in her hands.

"I win," she pronounced, already walking back to the sidelines where Hermione and Ron was watching with open-mouthed awe and glee at the two's antics. 

"Hey, no fair! You cheated," protested Harry running to catch up with her.

"Hey, no one said we were actually played football did they? Or with muggle rules," she said with a evil grin, "therefore, powers do not count as cheating."

"Fine, in that case," he said, already lifting the ball out of her hands.

It fell into his and he caught up with Hermione and Ron, giving them a split grin.

"I won."

*

They traipsed into the common room sometime later, after having taken a trip down to visit Hagrid and Fang. Their good mood had not managed to dissipate with the evening sun and they flopped down into the couches looking fresh faces and exhilarated. What a difference a day makes.

"I am knackered," pronounced Ron, limbs dangling everywhere as he slouched into his seat. 

"Totally," agreed Harry, doing the same in his own couch.

"Shift up," said Hermione, falling into the single-seater couch with Ron.

Harry shared a humoured look with Catalina as Ron pulled her onto his lap, which Hermione tried half-heartedly to struggle out of before giving up and snuggling down.

"You know, no offence anything, but I just can't get used to that," said Harry with a grin nodding towards the two.

They were completely oblivious and it seemed he was talking to air.

"I suppose we'll get used to it," shrugged Catalina, curling up on her own side of the couch. 

Harry murmured in agreement, and leant back in the seat, gratefully closing his eyes. He dangled a hand over the side and clicked his fingers a few times.

"Doggie, here girl," he said, leaning over the couch to see the pure black cat already slinking towards him.

"I told you already Harry," said Catalina, "she's called Deegie."

"She prefers Doggie, don't ya girl?" asked Harry, scooping the cat up and placing him on the couch between them.

She rolled her eyes and stroked Doggie absentmindedly.

"What does go on in that head of yours?" she asked him despairingly.

"Oh, you wouldn't want to know," laughed Harry, waggling his eyebrows comically. 

"Ugh," grimaced Catalina, "I dread to think."

"Hey," protested Harry, "I'm not that bad."

"Hmm," was all she said, running a critical eye across him.

"Oh shut up," he laughed, aiming a quill at her.

She sniggered and lay back even further into her seat. Hermione and Ron had joined the land of the living again and the chatted for some time about the Quidditch teams prospects. Harry wasn't so enthusiastic, they would be down one Chaser unless he found a replacement for Ginny who hadn't come back, Seamus was sub-keeper but hadn't played with the team yet and a chaser for Catalina as well. And they needed to be found before they left for Poland in less than five days. 

They moved onto other topics, nothing able to dull their happy moods. Ron and Hermione were eternally grateful for the others making up, and although they knew nothing of the cause, or indeed the salvation of the argument, Harry had hinted at it involving them 'talking'. 

They had pondered over this for a long while, with theories ranging from them doing just that; talking to actually biting the bullet and doing what they had interrupted them on last week. Neither of these options seemed likely somehow, but they supposed it was just a mystery they'd keep to themselves.

"I haven't had such a good day for.well for a long time," said Catalina happily as she trooped up to bed with Hermione.

"And things are going to be getting better and better," promised Hermione, "what with you two being _alone _for two months, you hear what I'm saying?"

Catalina shook her head and laughed, but couldn't help her stomach lurching excitedly or a huge grin spreading across her face.

"Do you think it's going to happen?" asked Hermione as they walked into their room.

Catalina sat down on her bed, and Hermione sat on hers so they were facing. Catalina gave a shiver and the smallest of sidelong looks at her chest where a mountain of red letters were being hidden.

"Maybe," she replied, giving Hermione a shy smile.

"Really?" squealed Hermione, clapping her hands excitedly, "for real this time?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, pulling out her pyjamas slowly, "I like him, and I know he likes me. It's just.scary you know?"

"You've got nothing to be scared of about Harry," Hermione told her, getting her own bedclothes out.

"I know that, that's not what I mean," she replied hastily, "it's just.what if it all goes wrong? We wouldn't be able to be friends anymore and it would be like when we were arguing, except worse, because I'll know what I'll be missing out on."

"You can't never do anything for fear of it going wrong," Hermione told her gently, "and I really don't think you ought to be worrying about splitting up when your not _together_. But I know how you mean, I felt the same about Ron, you've just got to take the chance, Carpe diem, like the say."

"Seize the day," they chimed together, before laughing.

"Yeah." said Catalina thoughtfully, slipping between her bed sheets, "carpe diem."

She clapped out the lights and she lay in the darkness staring in front of her for a long time. What it all boiled down to was, was she ready? She liked Harry, loved him even, but.was it too soon? Her mind travelled through the dark towards the trunk at the bottom of her bed, and the red letters lurking in the bottom like dangerous animals. 

Was she ready? Maybe she was.

Carpe Diem.

*

"There's been another break-in at Grimbits."

It was the first thing Hermione said to them when they joined her at the breakfast table the next morning. The Daily Prophet was spread out on her lap and she pointed to a small article on the tenth page sandwiched in-between a sighting of some famous Quidditch player and a piece about a new egg-boiling charm. 

"Let's see that," said Harry, pulling it off her lap and showing it to Catalina.

Heads close together they read the article quickly.

__

Yet another break into the Polish School of Magic has left government officials and staff at the institution baffled. Despite numerous anti-stealth charms being placed on the massive castle, another intrusion was detected in the early hours of Friday morning. Mateusz Soplica, Minister of Magic and head of the ruling house of the Soplica's in Poland has blamed subterfuge on the rival house of the Horeszko's, and as such the Guild of Watchmen has been dissolved and replaced by the Mrok watchmen, all of whom are loyal and trusted by the ruling house.

There has been no official statement as yet from either the Duma or the staff of the school as to what has been stolen.

"This is all very odd," said Catalina slowly when she'd finished, "_really _odd."

"How so?" asked Harry, feeling maybe he'd been misled by the articles purposeful distancing from the situation.

"Not only the break-in, but the Ministers reaction - blaming it on the other House," she said thoughtfully, "Imagine if Savoir suddenly accused his rival of breaking into Hogwarts and used it as an excuse to disband the Auror's and replace them with his own henchmen?"

Harry nodded and stared down at the article.soon he'd be there and he'd find out for himself about what all this confusing news added up to.

"So now Soplica has his own police force," mused Harry suddenly, "meaning he can make up the laws however he wants. This all sounds pretty dangerous."

"It's all part of the Soplica's plan I suppose," said Catalina knowledgeably, "weed out the opposing house slowly until they've full control. Then - how can they oppose them?"

Harry agreed, now she put it like that the Ministers plan was blindingly obvious. 

"I suggest we get down to some serious work tonight on this thing," she said, motioning to the paper, "work out a list of things we need to achieve, questions we need to ask, that sort of stuff."

"Yeah," said Harry, handing Hermione back her paper, "and while we're at it practise the language charm. No good if we can't even _ask _the questions eh?"

"Not tonight," she told him, "it's the tryouts for the new team tonight remember?"

"Oh yeah," said Harry, knocking his head with forgetfulness, "right - you coming down?"

"Maybe," she said shrugging, and Harry could feel the unsaid part of the answer.

"Ginny isn't going to be there," Harry told her, "and even if she was, it's your team as much as hers - more so in fact as you haven't quit. I need you to help me to find the best."

"Do I have to?" she wheedled, "you know what it'll be like.the Slytherin's will be there for a start, and Malfoy's been in an odd mood this year, and I wouldn't put it past the others to turn up and watch."

"Just ignore them," said Harry bracingly, getting up as they all finished breakfast, "and what do you mean _Malfoy's acting odd_?"

"Its pretty hard you know," she told him looking slightly put-out, "how am I going to do that, twiddle my thumbs and looks in the other direction and admire the lovely scenery as they go on? And you know what I mean about Malfoy, he hasn't really said _anything _to us this year, or done anything, and after last year.well.it's just odd."

"Well, just _try_ not to let it get to you is all I'm saying," continued Harry as they reached the entrance hall where they would split up for their separate classes, "but you're right.about Malfoy that is. I never really noticed before."

"Whatever," she shrugged and looked around for Hermione, "listen I'm gone, see you at lunch."

"Yeah, bye," he told her already retreating back.

"Ready for the wonderful world of divination?" asked Ron, appearing beside him and clapping him on the back.

Harry was still watching Catalina's departing form with a slight frown on his face, before he rolled his eyes at her and turned to Ron, "Yeah, lets get it over with."

"What's up with you?" asked Ron as they gathered around the trapdoor in the ceiling, "not looking forward to predictions of your disembowelment due to a duel with a giant fork today?"

Harry gave a snort of laughter, brushing away his worries, "Oh nothing, got the feeling she was angry with me."

"Who knows?" shrugged Ron light-heartedly, "can you not focus on something else apart from her for two seconds?"

"What?" asked Harry indignantly, narrowly avoiding decapitation due to descending silver ladder, something he was sure Trelawney would have seen coming.

"I'm just messing with you mate," laughed Ron and the look on his face and climbed up.

"Oh right," said Harry, before giving a slight laugh, "right."

*

Harry was pleasantly surprised at the number of Gryffindor's that turned up for the Quidditch try-outs, especially as the weather was foul. Rain was coming down in bucket and practically horizontal to the ground and Harry was thankful that he had the water repelling charm on his glasses. The original team was huddled in a corner by the stands, Harry had made them come to the practise and they were all glaring at him, annoyed at having to pick the one day they were inundated with icy rain to hold try-outs.

Catalina was slouched against the edge of the stand, chatting over her shoulder with Hermione, who were bundled up with cloaks and scarves against the wet. In the stands themselves was another large proportion of Gryffindor tower, including Ginny, and most of the other three Quidditch teams.

"Right!" shouted out Harry as he pulled on his leather gloves, trying to get some warmth into his soaking cold hands, "we're going to be holding try-outs for _two_ Chasers today! One a temporary position that will play as main Chaser for the nest two months, and one full time player!"

The potentials looked around hopefully, albeit a bit nervously and tried to prepare themselves for the task ahead.

"So, what I'm going to do is assign each potential one of the team players, who your going to practise passing with," said Harry, fighting to keep himself on his feet as a particularly strong blast of wind knocked him.

The rest of the Gryffindor team stood up from their slouches and picked up their brooms, Harry counted out the hopefulls, and took their names down. He handed them out to the team, who each had one young protégé to put through their paces.

"Now, I understand the weather is going to be a hindrance, and don't worry, we'll be taking it into account. Just do your best, that's the most you can do. Right, off you go."

Harry himself was in charge of a young, blonde haired girl who looked so willowy that he was surprised to see her still standing upright in the wind. Harry walked over, noting that the she had a school broom, not her own.

"Ok, so Peta," said Harry amicably, "how long have you been playing Quidditch?"

"Er, well actually," she said in a small voice, shuffling slightly, "we had lessons in our first year.but I'm I a muggle born so.I just thought I'd give it a try."

"No problem," said Harry, not deterred but put on guard, "I'd literally been on a broom for two minutes when I was put on the team. Let's just see what you've got."

She looked heartened at these words and swung a leg over the broom without another thought. They rose into the air and Harry did a slow lap, keeping half an eye on the others, whilst watching Peta's control. He was actually quite impressed, for a kid who looked like a feather could knock her down she was keeping remarkably straight, and the added bonus that it was a school broom, which always flew wonky. 

They did a few faster laps, tried to weaving, control work before he called everyone to the ground. 

"Right team, come and get the Quaffle's," he shouted loudly, and watched as the hopefuls shivered on the cold grounds.

"How's yours?" he asked Ron, who approached the trunk first with a pained look on his face.

"Makes Neville look like Joseph Wronski," he said with a grimace, "kid shouldn't be let out of the Tower, let alone on a broom. Nearly crashed into the posts - a no go."

"Right," said Harry in disappointment, "here, take this Quaffle. Just humour her ok, let her down gently?"

"Fine," said Ron grumpily as he walked off, "But I warn you, your just giving her an extra missile with which to cause destruction."

"What about yours Sarah?" Harry asked the young Chaser.

"Control's good," she said, slightly nervously, "a little bit intimidated by the crowd though."

"That's ok," he said handing her the ball, "what about yours Catalina?"

"Impressive," she said as she took the ball, "controls excellent for the conditions, good eye, quick reactions, nothing seems to faze him."

"Fantastic, here, see what his scorings like."

With that done, Harry spoke to the rest of the team, coming up with two more slight possibles, and another Neville. Again they set to the air, and it was soon full of flying Quaffles and shouts. Harry palmed off Peta with Seamus after a while and fly around observing the others, impressed by Catalina's and Ron's charges for completely different reasons.

"Oi, Neil!" shouted Harry to the one flying with Catalina.

He looked around and Harry chucked the Quaffle quickly, trying to test his reflexes. It was thrown a little out of his reach but the boy managed a quite impressive dive forward and roll, Quaffle tucked securely under arm.

"Nice one," he said, hands out to receive the ball, which was passed with a smart, direct throw.

He repeated this with all of the hopefuls until he was sure in his own mind who they should pick, before calling down them all. The team huddled in an alcove provided by one of the stands and discussed the players.

"Rule out mine," said Ron straight away, "flat no I'm afraid."

"And mine," said Seamus, "no hand-eye co-ordination."

"Ours were pretty standard," said one of the Jameson's, nodding towards his brother as well, "but there's probably better out there.

"Well Peta has got good potential, perhaps better to have her in Catalina's position as the temporary two-month Chaser then sub?" suggested Harry as they all nodded along, "she's got good control, best I've seen for someone of her build in this weather, especially on a school broom. And her aims pretty accurate too."

"Well if we're looking for someone to take over Ginny's spot, then I definitely think you should use Neil," said Catalina, looking to each player, "he tried out last year but didn't make the final cut, he's obviously improved since then. Could be a real asset?"

"Yeah, I thought his goal towards the end was brilliant, never seen someone curl a ball like that before," nodded Sarah, as the others hummed in agreement.

"Right, so Neil and Peta it is?" asked Harry, keen to get out from the wet and into a warm Tower.

"Agreed," they all said in unison, before disbanding and heading over to the assembled team.

Harry could tell that most of them already knew the decision, but some of the more average players were still holding out in hope. He felt terrible for putting this on the losers, and was thankful he never had to go through such an ordeal. 

"Well, we've come to our decision," said Harry, calling above the sound of the wind whistling around the goal posts, "firstly let me congratulate all of you for trying. I understand how nerve racking it must be and we think that you all have great potential, given the right training. However, there is only two places available at the moment and we would like to award the position of full time Chaser to Neil-"

He broke off to allow adequate time for the Gryffindor's in the stands to cheer, for Neil to look suitably shocked, then ecstatic and be congratulated by the other potentials.

"- and the substitute position to Peta!" he concluded, as Peta punched the air happily and shook hands with Neil.

"To the rest of you, commiseration's, and better luck next time!" he concluded, "next practise is tomorrow evening at six."

Everyone milled around for a while and Harry walked over and spoke to the two new team members for a short while before heading over to Ron and Catalina who were sheltering in the alcove they'd use a few minutes before. They were deep in conversation when Harry arrived, something to do with International Quidditch before they noticed him.

"All finished?" asked Ron, blowing on his hands.

"Yeah, let's get into the changing rooms before we all freeze to death," said Harry, braving the elements one last time as they trekked across the pitch.

"Well, what do you think, will they do?" asked Harry conversationally.

"Yeah, they're both good," said Catalina, "just worry about how the teams going to integrate, there's so much chopping and changing about at the moment."

"Yeah well, if Ginny hadn't have left it would have been a whole lot simpler," said Harry in a neutral tone, as Ron raised his hands.

"Before we go into this can I just say, I may be her brother but that doesn't mean I control her, or have the same views as her or whatever," he said, "just remember that ok?"

"I wasn't going to say anything," countered Harry, as they walked into the calm of the changing rooms again, "she's free to do whatever she wants."

"Yeah," said Catalina as she leant on the door to the girls changing room, "it was her decision."

She disappeared through the door and Harry and Ron carried on, entering the locker room and quickly changing in the nippy air.

"It's decent of her to be like that," observed Ron after a while, "I mean if that had happened to me I'd be furious."

"I know," said Harry, pulling on a thick jumper, "odd eh?"

****

AN/ Sorry again ghuys for the extremely, irritating long length of time you've had to wait for this! University is so mad I hardly have time to think, do my essays, lectures and keep writing! I can offer no greater apology than to say I'm sorry, and as a pressie for all you dedicated followers who've waited this long.TWO CHAPTERS AT ONCE, including the next one, which is a BIGGIE.

Teaser: "Just another minute!" she was crying, "another minute, please! I didn't tell her everything I wanted to say! Please, anything, a few seconds! Anything!"

****

Read on..


	25. Endings

****

~*~*~ Chapter Twenty Four ~*~*~

Endings

An official looking owl swooped down to the table and Harry looked up in surprise when it halted in front of Catalina. She shared a worried look with him, and pulled the letter it was carrying from it. It immediately swooped into the air and out through the window. 

"Whose it from?" he asked as she looked down at the hastily written address on the front.

She flipped it over and took in the seal, eyes widening slightly.

"St Mungo's," she said in an odd voice, before peeling it open. 

Her fingers shook as she read the letter and Harry could feel the pain, fear and desperation coming off of her in waves, almost choking him. He knew what the letter was going to be about as soon as she told him where it was from, he knew she did as well - they all did. She laid the letter down on her plate, casting a panicked eye across the table immediately in front of her.

"What." began Hermione through a tight throat, "what did it say?"

Catalina closed her eyes and took a shaky sip of her water. Her hands were trembling that much she could hardly keep the glass steady and with a loud thunk, dropped it down onto the table. She gulped a few times before answering the question.

"She's dying."

Harry sucked in his breath, he knew it. He knew this was going to happen - they'd all known for so long, but now it was actually happening, he couldn't believe it. 

"Catalina." began Harry, unsure of what to say, or what he _could_ say. 

"I'll go to see Dumbledore after breakfast," she told him, as if she were discussing something as simple as entertainment plans for the long nights in the common room.

Harry didn't say anything, he knew she wasn't listening. He knew her too well by now. He could feel the emotions, he knew what she was thinking, he always would know more than Ron and Hermione would. So it was a heavy and oppressive breakfast they had, no one spoke. They were all thinking about the news - how they would feel if it were them. Harry however, would never have to think these thoughts, he already knew, and he could tell that it had opened up the newly healed wounds Ron held over Percy. 

They got up to go to their lessons, and unconsciously walked Catalina to Dumbledore's office. When they stopped outside, Ron and Hermione just kept on going, for which Harry was grateful, they turned the corner and Harry faced her.

"There's nothing I can do," she said quietly, raising her dry eyes to his, "is there?"

"You can be there," he said finally, when the words came to him.

She nodded and turned to the gargoyle and speaking the password. She waited a second.

"Could you.come up with me?" she asked him as she stared at the gargoyles smirking face.

"Of course."

They took the stairs to Dumbledore's office door, where he was waiting with a member of the Order. He had been expecting them, Harry could tell and he didn't seem surprised to see him with her. He motioned to them to sit down, and Harry took the chair next to Catalina.

"I assume you've heard the news Catalina?" he asked her gently, while she nodded dumbly, "I can't imagine how you're feeling right now.but I hope you can understand that there are people here who can help you."

His gaze slid over to Harry, who was watching Catalina closely. She was staring at a patch of carpet, not seemingly hearing anything.

"Can I go and see her?" she asked in a small voice, as if her request might be declined.

"Of course, Sylvia will take you to St. Mungo's for as long as you need," said Dumbledore softly, motioning to the awaiting Order member.

She nodded blankly, then suddenly looked across to Harry with pleading eyes. She looked at Dumbledore who seemed to sense her unspoken question.

"You may take whomever you need, for support," he said, his old eyes looking saddened.

She nodded and turned as if to ask Harry permission but he just nodded. She didn't really need to ask.

"Go and get your cloaks and bags, and you can take the floo to Newcastle Station," said Dumbledore, standing up while everyone followed, "but hurry, you haven't much time."

Harry and Catalina walked quickly down to Gryffindor Tower in silence, left alone with their thoughts. Harry just wished he could give her a hug, tell her how sorry he was, comfort her in some way, but he knew this was just going to make things a million times worse. They split off into their own dorms, retrieving cloaks and packing an overnight bag just in case. Harry scrawled a hurried note a put in onto Ron's bed, explaining where they had gone, as if they needed any clue. 

He waited for Catalina in the common room, before finally going up to her dorm when she didn't show. He found her sitting on her trunk, bag in hand, cloak already wrapped her shoulders, but not moving. She was staring down at her old rag doll, which was lying lifeless in her hands.

"We haven't got long," Harry told her quietly.

"I know," she replied, squeezing her eyes shut painfully.

"We better go," he said, picking the bag up.

"I know," she repeated, squeezing the doll tightly in the middle.

"Are you ready?" he asked her softly.

"No," she said, getting up anyway.

He led the way down to Dumbledore's office, where the fire was already crackling in the grate. Sylvia stepped forward first, and disappeared into the flames. Catalina went next, and before Harry followed Dumbledore held out an arm gentle arm.

"This is going to be tough Harry," he told him seriously, "keep an especially close watch on her."

Harry nodded, "I will."

"Off you go, I'll keep in contact with the hospital, if you need anyone, then we'll come."

He merely just nodded again and stepped through the flames before emerging into the now familiar floo room of Newcastle Station, which was a hive of activity. Thankfully nobody noticed them and they walked across the courtyard in the howling gale, cloaks tossed around in the air. 

Sylvia led the way into the hospital, and they were led down the intensive care ward Catalina had been in, met by the familiar face of Dr Rahn.

"Catalina, Harry, it's good to see you again, though not under these circumstances of course," he said with a sad look in his eyes.

"Yes, hello doctor," said Harry, speaking for Catalina who was looking around the place with haunted, reminiscent eyes. 

"Follow me," he said leading them in a quick pace down the endless corridors. 

He spoke quickly as they hurried down the echoing tunnels, as if he knew there wasn't much time, and the thought worried Harry even more.

"I'm sorry to tell you you're mother is very ill Catalina," he said with a sorrowful look towards her, "and you must understand that there is nothing we can do now.only wait. But there isn't much time."

She nodded heavily, and Harry felt his own heart constrict with pain for this person he'd never met before. The doctor explained about her mothers condition - how she had refused to eat for the past two weeks, how she was gradually wasting away into nothing and Harry felt sick. It wasn't as of it wasn't curable, Catalina's mother was killing herself.

"She did ask to see you before.before the end," said the doctor, "please try not be shocked by her appearance."

Harry nodded and Catalina stumbled along the corridor, her teeth chewing onto her lips so much they left bright red spots. She walked very slowly after Dr Rahn now, as if wanting to put off the moment so long that it would never happen. He led them to a room much like Catalina's old one and Harry moved in front of the window, his heart jumping into his throat at the sight. A young looking woman was lying on the large white bed, looking impossibly small and fragile.

Harry took in the sight with a thumping heart, a muggle-looking oxygen mask over her mouth, as her chest rose and fell in small shallow breaths. The face that was so much like Catalina's it was hard to see the difference, was shrunken and had a dark yellow tinge. Her black hair was limp and dull and there was large patches where it had fallen out. Her eyes were a dull brown and were ringed by dark shadows and lines that deceived her youthful appearance. 

"Mama," choked Catalina beside him, raising her hand to the glass.

Harry was unpleasantly reminded of Catalina when she was at her trial, and her subsequent hospitalisation. They had both acquired the same horrible skin tone, look of ulitmate exhaustion and illness. Her similarity to her mother was almost uncanny to the point where Harry thought he was back visiting Catalina in hospital.

"Come in Catalina," said Dr Rahn, holding the door open, "hurry."

She walked through and Harry held back, feeling that this was something she had to do on her own. However she turned to him, begging for him to follow. He walked in with her hesitantly and she walked towards her mother's bed, visibly shaking.

"Mama?" she asked in a cracked voice.

Her mother pulled open her eyes groggily, and fixed them on her daughter. A heavy hand pulled away the mask.

"_Beti_," she rasped, her voice sounding coarse as sandpaper and caused Catalina to give another shudder.

"Oh mama," she moaned, running forwards and giving the woman a fierce kiss on her forehead. 

Catalina hugged the woman tightly, as she merely lay on the bed, unable to return the emotions. Catalina straightened up, and brushed the hair off her mother's face as she pulled in a rattling breath. Harry recognised the sound and knew now why people called it the 'death rattle'. It sounded as if the air were whistling through the branches of an ancient, dry tree - creaking and groaning as if each one was the last. He shuddered on the inside to see what the woman had become compared to the photo's he had seen of her.

"The doctor say's you're going to be fine," rambled Catalina, eyes never leaving the face of her mother, "just fine they say.right as rain - just like the English say!"

She gave another deep rattling breath, and winced slightly, as if in pain.

"You're..right," she croaked, "I'll be.fine soon _beti_."

Harry winced at the woman's words and Catalina gave a huge gulp, fighting the tears of grief that were building up. She had promised herself not to cry in front of her mother, not to acknowledge what was happening. 

"I'm going to take care of you from now on," said Catalina in a choked voice, "me and Harry will, and you can get better. And we'll get a new house, a be a family again.Everything's going to be better then."

The woman looked across to Harry slowly who tried to give her a comforting, reassuring smile, but what came out was nothing more than a grimace. Catalina beckoned him over with a shaking hand and he stumbled over, not sure of what to do or say. He sat down on the left-hand side of the bed, trying not to betray the situation and let her know how serious it was. 

The dying woman lifted a heavy arm and brushed Harry's cheek affectionately, he could feel the bones of her finger's through her translucent skin, the freezing cold digits that seemed dead already.

"Ah _beti_.you take care.of my little girl." she managed to say, pleading with her eyes that seemed the only thing of her alive, "she's so young.she doesn't deserve.this life.we have created for her."

Catalina gave a small sob and Harry nodded.

"I will, I promise," he told her, his own voice feeling weak.

She screwed her eyes up, obviously in pain, causing Catalina to contain a shuddering sob. Her mother turned her eyes towards her, and gave a fond smile, twisted by another grimace of pain half way through.

"You're so beautiful." she managed to croak out, "and I know you'll fight.you always have. One day you'll.understand.why.I did it.this..."

"No mama," she sobbed, "I wont." 

Catalina leaned forward and pulled her mother's unresisting body into her arms pleading with her eyes screwed tight as her mother's cold hand gripped Harry's hand.

"Mama don't go, please don't go.don't leave me, please mama, please, _please_," she whispered.

"Its my...time, _beti_," she managed to whisper, "I love.you."

"I love you," Catalina told her with such passion in her voice that Harry had never heard before.

The woman closed her eyes and Catalina lay her back onto the pillows. They watched in silence as her breathing got shallower while Catalina continually smoothed down her mother's sheets, stroked her cheek, kissed her head. Anything to let her mother know that in her last few minutes of her life, her daughter was there, and she had forgiven her for everything that gone before this moment. Harry could feel a lump in his own throat as he watched the unfolding scene, silent tears poured down Catalina's face as she grasped hold of her mothers other hand. 

Her mother gave it a gentle squeeze, before taking in another rattling breath. Then she relaxed, and let out a small sigh - her last. Catalina gave another choked sob, and shook her mothers hand slightly.

"Mama?" she pleaded, "mama? Not yet! Wake up mama, wake up, please wake up."

But she never would. Harry knew before the doctors rushed in and began casting their charms and spells they wouldn't be able to revive her. Mary Firelight had given up, she had brought about her death on her own terms, and she was never going to wake for anyone. Not even for Catalina who kept shaking her mother and pleading with her desperately, making Harry's heart break. She seemed to truly believe she could wake up her mother, and ignored the commands of the doctors to move out of the way. 

Harry however backed away until his back hit the back wall, watching the unfolding scene feeling completely detached. Catalina's shrieks of grief mingling with the hurried conversations between doctors into an unbearable sound he just wanted to block out. She finally moved away from the bed, standing in the middle of the room begging the doctors to wake her up.

"Just another minute!" she was crying, "another minute, please! I didn't tell her everything I wanted to say! Please, anything, a few seconds! Anything!"

But the doctors merely shook their heads in resignation.

Catalina would never get her last chance, her last few more seconds with her mother.

When they finally gave up her howls of grief filled the room and Harry wanted to walk over to her, to let her know that he was there for her somehow, but his legs felt like lead. She turned around to him and he watched helplessly as the furious, grief filled tears poured down her face.

In one movement she screwed up her face in agony and walked forward towards him quickly. She reached out and wrapped her arms around Harry desperately, burying her head into his robes. After a brief moment of confusion he wrapped his own arms around her tightly, rocking her slightly as he listened to her sobs of grief. 

He placed his chin on top of her head and watched the doctors in silence as they pulled the white sheet over her mothers head, shaking their own as they left the room quietly on Dr Rahn's orders. Harry could feel her fists clenching the material of his robes tightly and the way she had buried her face deep into the shoulder of his robes, trying to block out the world around them. 

"I should have.done.something," she said in a low, fierce voice.

"There was nothing anyone could do," he whispered to her calmly, eyes fixated on what lay underneath the white sheet.

"It's not true," she cried angrily, "it's not! All this magic! All this power that everyone's so desperate to get their hands on.and we can't do anything! Nothing at all! We're the powerless ones aren't we?"

"Not even magic can cheat death," he told her as she took a deep gulp of air.

She laid her head on the side of his shoulder, and looked in front of her with furiously blinking eyes as the tears carved tracks down her cheeks, splashing off her chin and leaving a bitter salty taste on her lips. She knew that if she'd just had the chance she could have done something. As she nearly got her tears under control the image of her mothers pain creased face flashed into her mind. She had suffered for such a long time, and even the end wasn't painless for her.

Harry had no idea how long they stood there, swaying with the force of emotion that could be felt from the loss of the person in front of them. In a way Harry was almost glad his parents had died when he was so young, so he never had to go through this. Her pain was so suffocating, so all encompassing that he didn't know how she could continue to breathe. She was holding onto him so tightly, as if she thought if she let go anymore, he would leave her as well.

Eventually however, even Catalina ran out of the mindless energy that had possessed her and her sobs quietened. He smoothed her hair down as her breathing returned to an even pace, noticing more and more how he was holding her up.

He realised she had fallen asleep, and when Dr Rahn returned, he motioned for Harry to follow him. He picked up Catalina carefully, trying not to wake her and followed the doctor, who led him to a small room, with a low bed. He stretched her out and pulled the white sheets up the her chin, to try and block out the cold that was causing her to shiver violently, even in her sleep. 

He followed the doctor out, nodding to the Order guard who was standing beside the door, as Dr Rahn led the way to the office and snapped the doors shut.

"She will benefit from the sleep," said Dr Rahn heavily, his eyes looked saddened and downcast.

Harry nodded silently, and rubbed his face tiredly with his hands, he could feel his own track marks of salt down his cheeks. 

"I realise that this is not the best time Harry, but there are some papers to sign. Things to organise." began the doctor looking awkward at his request, "I don't want to trouble Catalina."

"I'll sort them out," said Harry leaning forward, "what needs to be done?"

"You need to confirm time of death on this sheet here, sign the release forms here, so her body can be put in the mortuary," began the doctor, pulling out a sheaf of parchment's and pushing them towards Harry, "also we need to sort out the funeral."

So Harry had to spend the next half an hour filling out forms he didn't know half the answers to, and writing owls to funeral parlours, trying to make sense of the hastily written will completed only the day before. He was left in Dr Rahns office and conducted everything in silence, seeing only the look on the woman's face when she accepted the fate she had created for herself. How could she have done it, was all he could think. How could she put everyone through that trauma so selfishly, how could she have done that to her only daughter?

It was so unnecessary he thought bitterly. Mary Firelight could have lived for years and years, she could have seen Catalina grow up, been at her graduation, wish her luck on her first day of work, sit in the front pew and cry at her wedding, hold her grandchild in her arms.But she'd thrown it all away and died of a broken heart instead. 

Harry could only feel a minuscule amount of what Catalina must have been, but it was still choking him. All he could think about was what if he was in her position. What if his mother hadn't sacrificed her life to save him, what if she'd committed suicide? How would it plague him for years - what did he do wrong, could he have prevented it?

But he knew no one could have prevented Mary Firelight's decision, she had believed it was her time and that was it.

"All finished Harry?" asked Dr Rahn slipping into the seat next to him.

"Yeah, I think so," he sighed, rubbing his itchy eyes tiresomely, "is Catalina ok?"

"She's still asleep," he told him, "is there anyone we should call?"

Harry racked his brains, the only people he could think about was Mary's estranged parents, who had never seemed to particularly care about her. They had never visited her in hospital, or took Catalina to see her. Harry told Dr Rahn anyway, they needed to know.

"Catalina needs to identify the body before she leaves," Dr Rahn told him, and Harry was surprised to see how emotional he looked about this particular case - he must see it every day. 

"Why, you know it's hers," said Harry, his eyes feeling even itchier now, as all he wanted to do was sleep.

"Hospital regulations," said the doctor with a frown, "to make sure no potions have been used to disguise the person, you understand I'm sure. It's also sometimes good for the relative.one last goodbye."

Harry nodded heavily, feeling slightly lost and overwhelmed by all the paperwork and rules - why wasn't anyone here to help them? They were sixteen years old for Christsakes and they were doing it alone.

"You must understand that we did everything we could to save her Harry," said the doctor in a strained voice.

"But some people don't want to be saved," finished Harry, staring at the wall with unseeing eyes, "I just, I just don't _understand_."

Dr Rahn nodded, as if he understood Harry's statement that could have applied to anything. He gave a few consoling words that Harry realised he must have said many times before, they had that recycled quality about them, before standing up to go. He offered Harry the use of the muggle telephone that was unexplainably sitting on his desk, before striding out of the room.

He picked it up hesitantly, biting his lip with indecision before he dialled Remus's house number he had committed to memory in case of emergency.

It rang five times before Harry heard the suspicious voice of Sirius answer.

"Sirius, it's me," said Harry though his dry throat.

"Harry?" asked Sirius in alarm, "where are you?"

"St Mungo's," he said wearily.

"Why? What's happened? Are you ok?" demanded Sirius, fear coating his voice.

"I'm fine. It's Catalina's mum," he said in a shaking voice, "she just.died."

"Sweet Merlin," breathed Sirius, sounding deeply shocked, "I'm coming right now-"

"No," cut in Harry quickly, "it's ok, I've got it under control. It'll only make things worse."

"Are you sure?" he asked, sensing that Harry was probably right.

"Yeah," he replied, "I guess I just needed to tell you.sorry for scaring you."

"Don't be," said Sirius, "I'll speak to Dumbledore, find out what's going to happen."

"Ok," was all Harry could say, before pinching the bridge of his nose.

"What happened?" asked Sirius hesitantly.

Harry waited a long time before replying, which he did in a choked voice.

"I don't know.Catalina got a letter this morning, and we came." he began, before furiously wiping his eyes, "she just died Sirius, right in front of us.and there was nothing we could do. She just.died."

"Harry, I don't know what to say," said Sirius in a low voice, "only that at least now she's been put out of her suffering."

"Death's ok for her though," said Harry bitterly, "but what about Catalina?"

"Death is always hardest for those left behind," was all Sirius could say.

Harry was pacing in front of the table as he cradled the phone, wiping his face again. Sirius seemed to understand the silence and after a few moments asked, "How's Catalina?"

"Asleep."

Harry knew it wasn't the answer Sirius was questioning, but what could he say? She was fine?

"Are you sure you don't want me to come down?"

"No," said Harry fiercely, "I can take care of this."

Sirius seemed to recognise the no-nonsense tone in Harry's voice - taking out his confusion and conflicting thoughts out on the only person he could. 

"Yes," said Sirius heavily, "I learned a long time ago that if there's anyone that can take care of something like this, it's you."

"Yeah whatever, listen, I've got to go. See you Sirius," said Harry, dropping down the phone effectively cutting off his Godfather.

He rubbed his face again before walking back down to the room Catalina was in. The Order member was still on guard at the door, and let Harry in without a word.

He let his eyes adjust to the dark first, before feeling towards the bed she was asleep on, curled up in an awkward ball, still shivering. He felt her forehead, which was freezing cold, as were hands so he pulled some thick blankets from the cupboard and laid them over her, for all the good they did. He had promised her mother he would look after her, and it would start right that second. 

He finally sat down on a small plastic chair next to the bed and leaned his head against the wall. Pounding thoughts were running through his mind - would her father know, what did he think, did he feel anything? But most of all, what would happen to Catalina now. She had no home, except the unwelcome one in Ireland, she had no money, she could never receive her inheritance with Charles Firelight still alive to claim it. At least Harry had Sirius and Remus, and even Hagrid and Dumbledore he knew he could always rely on - who did Catalina have?

He looked down at her wearily, and reached out to stroke her long black hair that had formed a shield for her face. She had him and Ron and Hermione and that was it - what sort of life could they provide her with? He heard her give a slight moan and he looked down in alarm as he felt the light rush of emotions waking up provided for them. She seemed confused to her whereabouts and then the realisation hit her, hit both of them, with the force of ten tons of bricks.

"It wasn't a dream," she said hoarsely.

"No," he replied, not bothering to wonder how she knew he was in there with her.

"Oh Harry," she said painfully, taking a shuddering gasp.

He climbed off his chair and sat on the side of the bed and wrapped a slightly fearful arm around her, but she didn't push him away anymore and merely sank into his robes. They sat there for a long time, as she relived every last second of her mothers life, knowing of all the things she should have said, could have told her - but didn't.

How could she have sat and finished breakfast first? That was another ten minutes she could have had with her mother, and wallow around in her room instead of packing, that was another ten minutes.that was twenty minutes extra she could have had and didn't because she was too stupid and scared to come here again. Too busy thinking of herself and not her mother. She cursed herself over and over again in her head, forgetting where she was and who with for a few minutes.

Harry had violent pins and needles in his legs and a horrible crick in his neck developing as he saw the last rays of pale sunlight fall behind the houses through the crack in the blind. He couldn't believe that this morning they had been in Gryffindor Tower, and now they were here. Catalina wasn't crying anymore, only staring off into the distance in front of her as he smoothed down her hair with a dead arm. 

"I didn't think she was actually going to go," she said in a hollow voice a few hours later.

Harry nodded, only half-awake, "We never do."

"I always thought she was going to get better," she said digging her nails into his robes, "I _always_ did, even when I said I didn't.I always did."

Harry didn't know what to say, he knew nothing could console her, so he kept quiet, just hugging her so she knew at least, that he hadn't left her yet.

"I didn't want her to suffer," she managed to croak out, "she was supposed to die an old lady, in her sleep, had a long life."

"If you believe it, she's gone to a better place," said Harry quietly, "somewhere where she doesn't have the cares she carried here."

She nodded into his robes and he wondered what Catalina believed in, he certainly knew her mother had believed in something.

"I don't understand," she whispered.

"What?"

"I don't understand how she can be here one moment." she said her voice breaking.

Harry merely pulled towards her tighter, he really couldn't understand. How could somebody be alive one moment, and gone the next.all in a second. How could you loose a lifetime of memories, thoughts and feeling just like that?

Harry had known about death for a long time, seen and felt its devastating effects for himself, but he never understood it.

He never thought he would.

"Why," she whispered, "why did she leave me.did she not love me?"

"Of course she did Catalina," he sighed, pulling her to him tighter.

"Then why would she leave me?" she choked out, "why?"

"I don't know," he told her truthfully, "sometimes, we just don't have control over a situation.and sometimes we do. Your mum.she had the choice, and she thought she was doing the right thing."

Catalina nodded and the dull light of dusk finally faded into pitch black, and Harry carefully lit a candle, which cast dancing shadows on the wall. Harry continued to smooth down her long black hair and they sat in silence, hearing the dim sounds of the hospital all around them. He tried to concentrate on these sounds, and block out the images from his head, and the all-consuming sorrow and grief that was flooding through Catalina's very veins, making it impossible to even breathe sometimes.

A while later Dr Rahn came in, holding a small vial of potion. Catalina didn't make a move and the doctor turned to Harry instead.

"Make sure she drinks this," he told him, placing it onto the table next to them, "she can sleep in here tonight, for as long as she needs."

"Right thanks doctor," said Harry, turning his stiff neck to watch the doctor deposit the bottle. 

"We'll find a room for you too," he added as he clicked the door shut again - Harry caught a flash of robe that told him their guard was still at her post. 

"You hear that?" Harry asked her a while later.

She nodded slightly and he passed her the potion, "well have this and get some rest."

He passed her the potion, which she drank in one go, eyes drooping almost immediately until she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep - what the potion had aimed to do. He half climbed, half fell off the bed and after flexing his limbs and trying to massage some life back into them he looked down at her. She had tear tracks running down her face and the lines of worry had now smoothed out with the potions effects. 

He pulled off her boots and pulled the blankets across her tightly. When he was fully satisfied she was comfy and safe, he slipped out of the room, giving a brief nod to the guard, which looked as alert as all those hours ago. He trudged down the corridor heavily as he headed downstairs, looking in surprise at the high moon outside - it was later than the thought. 

He walked into the empty canteen, and an unimpressed man took his money for a cup of coffee. He personally hated the stuff, but nevertheless he felt he needed it. So he slipped into another hard, plastic chair and warmed his cold fingers on the coffee cup as he stared off into space. He wished Ron and Hermione were there, so he could tell them what had happened, so they could tell him what he was supposed to do. He had no clue. There he was filling out forms and writing letters not fully understanding what he was writing about and who to. Hermione would have known what to do, she'd know how to help.

He took a deep swig of the scalding liquid. Love had a lot to answer for he thought bitterly. It was always shown as being so nice, so good, but all it ever did was hurt people. All love ever caused was pain, just look at Mary Firelight, killing herself because of the love she had placed in a man who betrayed her, look at Catalina, spiralling into depression again because of hers.

"Penny for your thoughts," came a voice as a white robed figured slid into the seat next to him.

"That's a muggle saying," said Harry vaguely.

"Well, I'm muggle born," said Dr Rahn, "and old habits die hard."

Harry merely nodded, still staring at the stained patch of floor tile across the room. That explained the muggle telephone in his office at least. The doctor shrugged off his robe, a sign that he must have been off duty. He had his own cup of black coffee, which he drank with a grimace.

"It tastes like polystyrene doesn't it?" asked Harry.

"All hospital food does, it's genetic," said the man, "speaking of which, have you had anything to eat?"

"No," said Harry, "I'm not really hungry to be honest."

"Yes, I understand. All deaths, even the expected ones, come as a shock," he said heavily, "how is Catalina?"

"I'm not sure," said Harry awkwardly, "it's hard to judge her. But I think it's hit her hard, really hard."

"It will do I'm afraid," said the man, "how are you coping?"

"Me?" asked Harry blankly.

"Yes, it was a traumatic experience all round."

"I'm ok," lied Harry, not really knowing how to describe how he felt.

They both took a sip of their coffee, pondering their own thoughts.

"I envy you," said Harry, "at least at the end of the day you can go home and forget about what's happened here."

"Do you think we can ever really separate our work from our lives?" asked the man mildly, "this has been a tough case.Mary was a particular favourite of mine - we became good friends."

"I'm sorry," said Harry, looking abashed, "I didn't mean to sound so.you know."

"Don't worry Harry," said the man, "I understand completely. Even though I am surrounded by death and illness every day, I never get used to the feeling."

"No.I suppose not," he said in a faraway voice.

"The press are on their way here," said the man, straightening up, "my advice is to get to them, before they get to you, or Catalina."

"Can't you just throw them out?" asked Harry despairingly.

"We learned a long time ago that doesn't work. A short statement will do, we've given ours."

"Right.fine," sighed Harry, cultivating bitter thoughts against all paparazzi everywhere. 

Harry finished the dregs of his coffee, grinding the horrible gritty goo at the bottom between his teeth. 

"When will she wake up?" he asked the man, climbing to his feet.

"The potion wears off in four hours, but she will probably sleep her whole usual night," he said, also getting to his feet.

"Right, I better go," said Harry, already walking off.

"See you in the morning Harry," called the man as he rounded the corner.

He walked back into the room again, and dragged forward the plastic chair. He aimed to get at least a little sleep before the mornings trials. He cast a worried eye over the sleeping form of Catalina and settled down into the chair, battling for what seemed like ages to find a comfy piece of the plastic contraption.

His sleep that night was fitful at best, he woke up several times during the night, checking on Catalina before trying to get back to sleep. He soon found out the comfiest position on one of these chairs was to slouch down into them as far as you could go and hope for the best.

He awoke for real when a slit of light from a gap in the blinds was shining right into his eyes. He gave a groan of pain as he straightened up, fearing his spine would be forever curved into the shape of the chair. He looked down and gave a slight jolt to see Catalina staring at him with unreadable amber eyes. She took in a deep breath and pulled her blankets up to her chin.

"Morning," she said in a flat voice.

"How did you sleep?" he asked quietly.

She shrugged and Harry busied himself with stretching and cracking some life back into his muscles and bones. He gave a look at his watch, it was nine in the morning. Everyone would be sitting down to first lessons right about now - he should have been in Defence. 

"Can I get you some breakfast?" he asked her, standing up and pushing his boots on.

"No. I'm not hungry."

"Ok," he said worriedly, "I'll be back in a moment."

He walked out of the room to find Sylvia slouched on her own chair. She was awake and alert, but looked a little worse for wear.

"How is she?" asked the woman in a kindly voice.

Harry shrugged, "I'm jut getting some coffee, want anything?"

"I'll have the same thanks," said the woman gratefully.

Harry nodded and marched off down the corridor. He bought two more large coffee's, and after a moments indecision, bought a muffin for Catalina and glass of orange juice. He knew she probably wouldn't eat it, but it would make him feel better to have tried something. He was just walking back down the corridor when he saw Dr Rahn motioning him into his office. Harry walked in, and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw who was waiting in the chair for him. 

He took in the banana yellow robes, the blood red nail varnish and the acid grin quill that was hovering above the page expectantly. He nearly dropped his muffin in the shock of seeing the smiling face, peering out from under jewelled spectacles. The last time he'd seen this woman, she'd been about two inches long and inside an unbreakable jar surrounded by leaves and twigs. 

"Harry, long time no see," she said, giving him a wide, reassuring smile.

"Yes." said Harry faintly, "long time."

"Harry, Miss Skeeter has been sent by the Daily Prophet, for the interview I told you about," said Dr Rahn, wringing his hands worriedly, looking apologetic.

Harry shook himself, and once he'd recovered from the shock of seeing his one-time tormentor he began to feel the anger building up.

"I'm not speaking to her," he said flatly, turning to leave.

"It's either me or Ruby Goldwing my boy," called Rita, "and I've kept your little friends promise - I write the truth now."

"Like I believe that," scoffed Harry, "and I am _not_ your boy."

"Believe it or not Harry. I have turned over a new leaf," she stated, looking strangely sincere, "now if I could ask you a few short questions?"

"I'm only talking to you if I get to proof read your final draft," said Harry suddenly.

"Right." said Rita, looking slightly fazed, before hitching up her smile, "right.fine. I'm sure we can come to some arrangement."

"That is the arrangement, take it or leave it. Because I am seriously tired and have spent the night sleeping on a chair that deserves to be melted for crimes against humanity and I haven't got time to mess about with you at a time like this."

"Fine, I take it," snapped Rita, "my my Harry, how _sensible_ you've grown since our last meeting. Well, let's do this then shall we."

The interview was quite painless Harry recalled later. She'd asked him predictable questions, steered clear of any mention of Charles Firelight. It was a bog standard obituary and Harry was very grateful for the fact, if not slightly surprised. When the interview was over, Harry stood up and gathered his now lukewarm coffees and breakfast together.

"Harry," interrupted Rita before he walked out, "I am very sorry for your loss, and for Catalina's. I understand this must be a difficult time for all involved, and you have my word that this article would be one for you to be proud of."

Harry had been so stunned by this that he could only stutter his thanks and walk out of the room in a daze. Could that really have been Rita Skeeter? The woman who had made his life a living hell throughout his fourth year? And not only his, but Hagrid's and Hermione's as well? Harry put it down to her being her usual conniving self, anything for a story as Hermione had once said. No doubt after this article was over a done with bother her and Ruby Goldwing would be jumping on the bandwagon with more horrible stories about them.

He handed Sylvia her coffee, and walked into the room to find Catalina sitting in the same position as when he'd left. He sat down in the torture instrument from hell (the plastic chair) and placed her muffin and juice on the small bedside table and sat back and drank the horrible, gritty, and now cold coffee.

They didn't speak as the seconds, minutes and hours crawled past, Harry felt like there wasn't anything you _could_ say at a time like this. The only thing he could do was be there. 

Eventually Dr Rahn walked into the room, and Harry knew the time had come they'd spoken of earlier. It was time for Catalina to go to identify the body, and to say her last goodbye. He had to explain to her what was happening, and she looked terrified at the possibility. 

Harry and Catalina followed Dr Rahn as he led them down a few flights of stairs, until they were in the cool cellars of the building. He led them across to a wide metal door, and paused. He opened the door and there was a cool blast of air around their legs. He walked through and held it open for Catalina, who shuffled in silently.

Harry watched her walk in and over to a low table before the door snapped shut. He settled himself into the seat by the door, listening to the noises from within. He knew she needed to be alone now, this was her final goodbye in a way - the last time she would ever lay eyes on her mother. 

Harry heard her burst into tears again, obviously trying to contain them but failing miserably.

"I can leave you alone if you'd like," he heard Dr Rahn say, "right, we'll be just outside."

The doctor came through the doors, and Harry could just see Catalina leaning over a white sheet on the table when the door closed again.

"I won't be long," said the doctor, "I'll be back in a moment."

And then he was gone, and Harry was left in the cold empty corridor with nothing but the sound of Catalina's muffled sobs for company. He eventually heard her quiet down, and the sound of her tears was finally replaced by that of her low voice. 

"Mama, there was so much I wanted to tell you," she began, swallowing deeply, "so many things about me you didn't know, so many things I wanted you to tell me."

Harry closed his eyes and listened to her voice reverberate around the entire corridor, although she was only speaking quietly. She seemed to be talking to her mother as if she were still alive, in a silent, one-way conversation.

"You never knew about my hopes.my dreams. I never got a chance to tell you how much you meant to me. The life you and papa gave me before this.I enjoyed it. I never once felt angry at you for all the moves, the houses, the languages, the new friends - you made me special. And I never blamed you about papa, even though you thought I did."

Harry cringed at the thought, that her mother went away thinking Catalina had hated her for the life she'd had. She had told Harry that herself, before she took one of her final last breathes, that she wanted Catalina to have a better life the one they'd created for her. 

"And I wanted to thank you, for finally bringing me _home_. I never understood why you were so homesick about this tiny, rainy island, but I think I'm beginning to understand.I've finally realised it's a place I could finally belong. I wanted to thank you for that mama, for helping me see where I belonged."

Harry gave a weak smile, as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. Catalina sounded so young, so lost, so unable to keep together the strength to say what she needed to say.

"Most of all though mama, I wanted to tell you about my future, and the plans I'd made. I'm tired of moving now, I've seen enough of the world to last me a lifetime. I'm going to stay right here, but I'm not going to be on my own anymore.Harry's here with me now," she said and he turned and watched the doors, "and you'd like him.He likes me mama, and he looks after me, and he doesn't think I notice him, but I do. I always do, I see every little thing. I love him mama and you never got a chance to see that.All the time you told me he was trouble and that I should stay away from him.when he was the only thing I could truly believe in."

Harry held his breath, watching the doors with a wide-eyed look. He felt like the world had taken a sudden lurch and changed his life forever.

"I'm sorry it had to end like this mama," she said sorrowfully, completely changing tack, "that you thought you were so alone that you couldn't stay with me anymore.But you'll be with Mikhail now, and I know you'll finally be happy. But I'm going to leave you Shebulba, so you won't be alone ever again, so you'll always have someone with you now.Lu Tze found her, all these years I thought she'd gone, and she was just waiting for us to come back."

"I'm going to go now mama, back to school and back to this life. And I wish I could say that I will see you soon, but I'm not going to.Not for a long time.I don't plan on joining you for many more years yet. So you're just going to have to wait for me, and tell me how you think I've lived my life then, because I want you to watch out for me, and Harry, and make sure we do ok."

Harry listened intently as seconds ticked past in silence.

"I love you mama, I always have.and I always will," she whispered before her voice finally did what it had been threatening to do since she started. She collapsed into heart-wrenching, spine-tingling wails of misery that froze his very heart and made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. 

He finally had enough of the noise, and silently slipped into the freezing cold room. He walked over to Catalina, who was sat on the chair in front of a low table where Mary Firelight lay, dressed in a plain white robe. Her yellow skin had become taut over time and made her features look tight and unrealistic. Harry dropped an arm onto her shoulder as his eyes were drawn to the rag doll, which had been forced into her hands and dangled like some ugly marionette whose strings had just been cut.

He couldn't say anything that she would want to hear, or that would comfort her, so he just stood there and hoped she knew that he would always be there for her. Catalina stood up suddenly, and Harry backed off a few paces, not wanting to crowd her on her last moment with her mum. She bent down and placed a kiss on her mothers forehead, smoothed her hair down one the last time, before whispering something in her ear.

When she straightened up Harry could see the silent tears that were running down her face. She cast one final lingering look at her mother, before turning around slowly. Harry regarded her nervously, not sure which way she would go - upset or angry. 

"Harry," she said in a heavily choked voice, "you don't know _how much_ it means to me.that you were here."

Out of everything she could have said or done he wasn't expecting _that_.

"It's the least I could do," he said quietly, "you didn't think I'd let you come alone?"

She shook her head, her hair flapping in front of her face as she temporarily lost the ability to speak. Harry was feeling crushed at the amount of feeling that could be hidden inside one person, especially at a time like this. 

"I don't understand," she said painfully, as the tears flowed, "that she's gone."

Her face creased up in pain and she stamped her foot, almost in frustration at her reaction. She took a hesitant step forward, before striding across the room and for the second time that year, pulled Harry towards her. She wrapped her arms around him and held them by his neck, as he did the same, as she sucked in steadying breaths. She seemed determined not to cry this time and settled for furiously staring at the wall behind Harry's shoulder as she leant the side of her head against his.

As she tried desperately to forget, Harry tried to remember every detail of what was happening. He had spent so long being pushed away from Catalina and her violent reactions to anyone touching her, that he couldn't comprehend what was happening. It was as if the way she starved herself of this kind of contact, had finally got too much for her, and she had snapped. So as Catalina tried to recall the twelve uses of Dragon's blood to calm herself down, Harry tried to remember the way that she stood, the way she held her arms around him, the way she was only slightly shorter than him and the way her hair smelled of flowers. 

"I'm going to miss her," she whispered, so quietly that it was only because her lips was by his ears that he heard her, he didn't think she even meant to say it out loud.

He pulled her closer, "I know."

*

****

AN/ So there you go you lucky little people, another dose of happiness for our intrepid heroes.Have you noticed how I seem to be on a one way course to psychologically shattering them recently?

Oh well, Hope you enjoyed as much as you could, and that you liked.THOUGHTS?

Teasre trailer: "I do! I hate her! I hate her for leaving me, for the way she put up with him, for dragging me around every sodding country in the world except the one I should have been in! I hate her for everything she did, for loving him! For leaving me for him!"


	26. The Memory Box

****

Rated for one or two mild swear words at the beginning - trust me, they're necessary, and before you say anything, Catalina is quite capable of swearing when she wants!

~*~*~ Chapter Twenty Five ~*~*~

The Memory Box

It was the next morning that found them sat back in their rooms, staring at a small wooden chest. Catalina had been given a box full of her mothers possessions, things that she had taken into hospital with her and Harry was surprised sat the amount of stuff compared to how much Catalina herself had when she had stayed. Dr Rahn left the room quietly, and Catalina sat on the edge of the bed staring at the box between her feet.

"It's her memory box," said Catalina in an emotionless voice.

"What's that?" he asked, sitting down next to her carefully.

"All her memories are in here, she took it with her everywhere, shrunk in her pocket…I've never been allowed to look in it."

Harry stared at the box, he wasn't sure whether he quite understood. Knowing the magical world, it probably really _did _contain her memories - maybe it was like a pensieve? But when Catalina bent down and pulled back the lid he saw it was merely a wooden trunk, packed with books, parchments, photo's and trinkets.

She picked out one of the leather bound books, a date stamped across the front in peeling gold letters. It was a diary, and there were loads of them packed into the box, one for what looked like most of her life. 

"She always kept them, since before I was born," she said, staring down at them, "I thought she'd stopped when we'd moved back, but obviously not…"

She picked one out and looked at the date, this years date. She didn't open it, fearing what the last entry would say. She pulled them all out carefully and laid them on the side of the bed and reached in further. 

She pulled out a photo frame, inside which was a wedding photo. Catalina promptly dropped it on the floor as soon as she clapped eyes on it. Next she pulled out a bouquet of roses, perfectly preserved and bound up with ribbons. Again she threw it onto the floor without a thought.

Harry frowned at her behaviour, she wasn't exactly being very respectful towards her mothers possessions. However the overpowering feeling of mounting anger was enough to tell him that he ought not to say anything. She pulled out more things before coming across a sheaf of loose photos. She stared down at them in fury, flipping through them quickly, Harry could see the severe looking face of Charles Firelight staring out of each of them. 

At least he understood why now.

With an angry sigh of frustration she threw the photos across the room and they rained down across the room. Harry flinched slightly.

"It's all about him!" she hissed, picking out a crystal wineglass with a shaking hand, "see this? The glass they drank out of at their fucking wedding!"

Without a thought she threw it across the room, and it shattered on impact with the wall and the shards fell to the floor in a rain of tiny rainbows. She jumped up and started rooting around in the box, pulling things out a tossing them aside.

"His Order of Merlin, First Class," she snarled, pulling out a regal looking piece of parchment.

She tore it in half and scrunched up all the pieces, throwing them across the room to join the mounting pile. Harry stood up carefully, she was getting herself into a real fury and he didn't know if he had the courage to stop her. 

"His medal of honour from the Dark Force Defence League," she cried, throwing that so it hit the picture frame on the wall, which fell to the floor with a small crash.

"It's all about him!"

She kicked the bouquet of roses across the floor, and kept reaching in and pulling out things - sheaves of parchments that turned out to be love letters, ornaments, gifts, jewellery. It all went flying across the room. Harry thought it was enough when she started damaging the room, he couldn't let her take out her hate for her father like this. 

"Come on Catalina," he said consolingly, "that's enough."

"No it's not!" she yelled, "it's never going to be enough! He ruined out lives! He killed her! He hurt me! How can she still love him?!"

"I don't know," he said, "but this isn't helping…"

"It is! ITS HELPING ME!" she shrieked pulling out a smaller box filled with letters and throwing it up into the air, "See!"

"Catalina," pleaded Harry, ducking slightly as a small object whizzed past his head, "your mum wouldn't want you to do this…"

"WELL WHAT'S SHE GONNA DO ABOUT IT? HUH?" she yelled, tears forming in her angry eyes, "She gonna stop me now? She gonna set him on me? Like she always did! I hate her!"

"You don't hate her," said Harry anxiously.

"I do! I hate her! I hate her for leaving me, for the way she put up with him, for dragging me around every sodding country in the world except the one I should have been in! I hate her for everything she did, for loving him! For leaving me for him!"

Harry realised her every single pent up thought and feeling about her father was coming out now, and she was trembling with rage now. Her face was screwed up in fury, no longer pale and sad but red and angry.

"You love her really Catalina," he said, moving forwards with the intention of making her release her grip on a black vase. 

"I don't," she hissed at him angrily.

"You do," he said, more bravely that he felt, "it's why you're upset."

"Me? Why should I be upset? It's not as if I've got anything to be upset about! Its not like I've had every piece of shit dumped on me! It's not like I'm angry at being dumped here on my own! It's not like everybody hates me because I'm a murderer! It's not like I've been messed about with by EVERYBODY I've ever met!"

"_I'm_ trying to help you ok?" he said, angry at the way she just happens to completely blank everything he'd ever done for her.

"I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP!" she yelled, hefting the vase at him.

He ducked quickly and it shattered against the back wall. He stayed crouched for a second as she turned around and began to kick the things of the floor around, looking moody and furious. Sometimes, he really wished she'd stop throwing things at _him_ - where was the sense?

He stood up straighter and watched her warily as she stared at the items on the floor. Her moment of silence didn't seem to calm her down however, and the sight of something else made her even angrier.

"She hasn't got anything about me," she whispered hoarsely.

"What?" he asked, slightly worried by the change of tack.

She had dropped to her knees and was desperately pushing things aside obviously completely focussed on one thing.

"She doesn't even have one thing in here about me! Her own daughter! Where's the photo's of me? Where's my drawings? My presents? Where's all the things about me?!"

She kicked aside a few more things.

"There's _him_, there's her, she's even got pictures of Mikhail! But none of me!"

"Catalina, I'm sure there are some in there -" he began, but trailed off under her furious glare.

She picked up the box and tipped it upside down so the rest of the contents fell to the floor. She walked across them, the crunching sounds of her boots as things broke was the only sound in the room.

"Well lets test your theory then shall we Harry?" she said in a cold voice.

Harry flinched. He had the overwhelming feeling he'd just made things a lot worse. 

She knelt down and began to rummage through the wreckage, not even flinching when the shards of glass cut into her fingers.

"Is this a picture on me at my first day at Hung Yin?" she asked in mock-curiosity, "why no. It's a picture of him, standing in front of a _tree_."

With a tiny motion she set the photo alight, and its shrivelled up and lay smouldering on the floor next to the trampled roses. 

"Is this my certificate for my exams at Salem? No, it's not is it. It's a picture of them, on _holiday_."

She repeated the action, fighting against the tears now, angrily brushing them away as if their very presence where the cause of her fury. She continued down this vein for a long time, and Harry could do nothing but stare at her in amazement and shock, he had never seen her this angry before or how she could looking extremely frightening.

"It's all about Him!" she spluttered, more tears tracking down her face.

She stood in the centre of the chaos, surrounded by the debris of her outburst and wiped her face again. Harry could sense a definite shift in the mood of the room. He wasn't quite so afraid of being stoned to death by vases and medals anymore.

"It's all about him," she cried as the tears flowed freely, pounding the floor of parchments, "all about him."

He walked over to her as she pushed more things aside with her foot in the vague hope there would be something there to make her think otherwise.

"There's nothing about me," she said quietly.

He stared at the ground, there was no getting away from the fact - she was right. There _wasn't _a single scrap of evidence to even show Mary Firelight had a daughter. He was completely bewildered.

"Why isn't there anything of me?" she asked him, "why?"

"I don't know," said Harry truthfully.

"Why?" she asked again as if he would have the answer.

"I don't know," he repeated.

"Why!" she shouted, pushing him in the chest, "Why not? Huh? Why!"

"I can't tell you," he said as she cried harder at his lack of reaction to the way she was shouting and hitting him.

"Tell me," she sobbed, half-heartedly pounding him on the chest now.

"I can't because I don't know."

"I want to know…please tell me, I have to know."

He couldn't say anything else and merely wrapped his arms around her unresisting body. She sobbed onto his shoulder and he stared out of the window at the sun and the singing birds unable to comprehend how much hurt could be contained in one room. 

"I want to know why she didn't care," she whispered by his ear as her tears made his cheeks wet, "I want to know why she didn't love me…why she had to leave me…why?"

He rocked her gently and the only sounds in the room was of her crying and their boots grinding the glass into the floor. Her tears were dripping down his neck and spine as she gave a frustrated sigh, as if she hated every emotion she was having, but Harry knew that as horrible the past few days had been they'd helped her a lot to. She was finally talking about her dad again, finally closer to Harry and he felt he knew her so much more now because of it.

When she finally stopped crying she lent her chin onto his shoulders, and stared straight ahead before laying it down on it fully.

"I made a decision," she said in a slightly hoarse voice that told him her throat couldn't deal with what she'd just put it through.

"What's that?" he mumbled, vaguely twirling a lock of her hair around his finger.

"I'm going to start again. No more living in the past. No more being stuck on things that I can't change."

Her voice sounded defiant and firm, as if she truly meant what she was saying. Harry hoped for everyone's sake she was right, he liked the old Catalina when all they had to worry about was getting a date for the Ball and whether they were going to fail potions again.

"A new start?" he asked her and she nodded her head slightly.

"Starting right now," she told him, dropping her arms until they could wrap around his waist, "…now…"

Harry smiled despite every that had happened and their current situation. It was terrible that it had taken something like this to apparently shock her out of the lifestyle she had been creating for herself. 

"And I'm going to be honest," she continued, breathing deeply, "no more lying or secrets."

"What lies and secrets have you been keeping?" he asked her light-heartedly.

"I've been keeping a big secret," she replied seriously, "about how I've fallen in love with my best friend."

Harry nearly fell over in shock. Whatever he expected to say, it wasn't that and it took him a while to stop staring open mouthed at the windowsill. Catalina giggled softly at his silence, although if it had been him he would have been dying with worry.

"Your hearts beating really fast," she said with a small laugh, "I can feel it going…"

"I'm just in shock," he said in a strangled voice, feeling like he'd just had his head taken off a shaken a bit.

"I can hear it," she said, before drumming her finger tips on his spine in time to his beat, "_dum, dum, dum, dum…"_

Harry laughed, feeling happier for a moment than he had for a long, long time. He almost forgot where he was and why.

"Well…I have a secret to," he said, pulling her closer, "_I've _fallen in love with my best friend too."

"That's not such a big secret," she whispered in his ear as if he were stupid, "you're a lot more obvious than I am."

He laughed even more at this and wondered why he wasn't more embarrassed about admitting something like that to a girl. But then again, it was Catalina, and he'd given up on being worried about how she might react to things a long time ago.

She lifted up her head until they were stood cheek to cheek, a feat made easier by the fact they was almost the same height.

"When did you know?" she asked, closing her eyes peacefully.

"I don't know," he shrugged, "it sort of crept up on me…how about you?"

"You were getting a book from the shelf in the common room and it fell on your head," she replied instantly.

"What? That's it?" asked Harry incredulously, "That's all I was doing, fetching a book?"

"Well yeah," she laughed, sounding a bit embarrassed, "I just watched you a thought…I'm in love, that's odd." 

"That's really strange," sniggered Harry, "I thought you were going to say something normal like at the Yule Ball or whatever."

"Nah, before that," she told him in all seriousness.

They didn't say anything for a while. Harry felt like they been stuck in the 'maybe' position for so long that he wouldn't know how to act anything different. There was suddenly the daunting prospect of what to actually _do_ with the information they'd just shared. But at least it had come at a useful time, when they were shortly going to be the only people within a thousand miles that spoke their own language with the prospect of plenty of alone time.

Catalina drummed her fingers on his spine again in a vague sort of way and he grinned in a very self-satisfied way, still twirling her hair around his finger.

"I think I'm just going to go to the toilet," she told him suddenly, "and then we should go and get some food before we leave."

Harry nodded and reluctantly stepped away, holding his arms limply by his sides now he didn't have anything to occupy them with. She gave him a smile, cheeks faintly blushing before walking across the room. Her boots crunched on the debris beneath her feet and she gave an absent minded kick at one of the momento's before swinging the door shut behind her. 

Harry stared at the door for a few moments, before splitting into a wide grin. Finally something was going right. He cast an eye around the room, noticing for the first time the full extent of the damage, before beginning to clear up. He wasn't sure if Catalina would want to keep any of the things, so he put them all into a big sack, practising his wandless levitation on most of the items. She had shown only the diaries the slightest bit of curiosity, so he packed them into his rucksack. He was on his hands and knees trying to pick up some glass when he noticed a photograph, partially hidden behind one of her father in a frame.

Still crouched down he reached over to it and pulled it out from under the smashed glass covering it. He held it up and stared at it, Christmas in the Firelight household. There was Mary, sat on a chair next to the large Christmas tree, raising her glass to the camera and chuckling happily. Charles was sitting next to her, arm around his wife with his own glass. Smiling. They were both smiling, something he'd never seen either of them do. 

Harry's eyes were drawn to the two children underneath the Christmas tree and he felt a strange sadness as he watched them playing together.

Catalina must have been about eight, she looked so much younger than the Catalina he knew, her hair was shorter as well, only shoulder length and she had two front teeth missing. Mikhail looked just like them all, a true Firelight. Short spiky black hair and large dark eyes, he was riding across the carpet on a miniature broom - he could have been more than five and a half at the time. 

It was a perfect family picture, and Harry felt a deep sense of loss that he didn't even have one photo like this. But then he reminded himself who the picture was of, this wasn't a perfect family, far from it.

"Death Eater…" said Harry pointing to Charles before moving to the other ones, "Suicide…dead at nine…abandoned."

He frowned deeply, the sense of loss and grief building until he could no longer even look at the picture anymore. He tucked the photo into one of the diaries and looked up suddenly as Dr Rahn stuck his head around the door.

He took in the mess and gave Harry a look.

"This place looks like World War Three just broke out," he said simply, sliding in and looking around.

"Catalina got a bit…emotional over the box," said Harry awkwardly, motioning to the splintered remains of wood.

"Enough said," nodded the doctor, "well, you're taking the floo back in around an hour, I was just coming to tell you to get a bite to eat before heading off. Doctor's orders."

"Will do," said Harry, standing up and dusting off his jeans.

He looked around for a moment, most of the rubbish had been cleared away, the place looked almost back to normal, he'd done a good job. Catalina sidled in through the door suddenly and caught him unawares. He stared at her for a moment - she loved him. The thought hit him suddenly as if it was something new and amazing. _She _loved_ him. _She blushed slightly and dropped her gaze in a way that made his stomach feel all the more churnier.

"You're mother asked me to give this to you," said Dr Rahn, handing her an envelope, "she wrote it not two days ago."

Catalina graciously accepted in and looked at it for a few moments before tucking it inside her robes. Dr Rahn led them out of the room, and guided them to the front entrance, where the sun was shining brightly making the sterile white hospital entranced gleam.

"Thank you for all your help," said Catalina, turning to Dr Rahn, "it means a lot to me."

"Not at all. Your mother was a very special lady, she meant a lot to me, to all of us," he said with an unusual look in his eye.

Harry wondered how special Dr Rahn really held Catalina's mother, he seemed almost as choked up about it as her.

"She gets you like that," joked Catalina without any feeling or humour.

"Well, you better go," he said, holding the door open for them, "no doubt we'll meet again."

"Maybe under better circumstances," said Harry, shaking his head.

"Indeed," he replied, "well, farewell."

They walked out into the bright sunshine and Catalina rubbed her eyes fiercely. Chanting in her head, I will not cry, they followed Sylvia towards the station. Halfway across the precinct Harry noticed the reporters. Ruby Goldwing and her photographer sitting on the fountains edge, watching them.

"This way," cautioned Harry, taking hold of Catalina's hand and pulling her in the opposite direction.

"What's wrong?" she asked worriedly as she was dragged along.

"Reporters," snarled Sylvia, "wait here, I'll go talk to them."

She strode off towards the two, and Harry was dismayed to see the shutters of the camera clicking away at high speed. The Daily Prophet or one of her glossy rags would have a nice picture of them two to go with tomorrow's latest instalment of the Catalina witch-hunt. 

Harry was impressed with Sylvia's work, as the two reporters were pushed away and continued to walk off in the opposite direction. Whatever she'd said it had worked.

"Come on, lets hurry it on up," she said when she returned, directing the two towards the station where the bought a sachet of floor powder and were in front of a fire in ten minutes. Catalina went through first, then Harry, followed by Sylvia. They emerged in Dumbledore's office and he was already waiting, reassuring smile fixed firmly in place.

Harry stood protectively by her side and Dumbledore gave him a long searching look in which Harry tried to convey a sense of what had happened to them since they'd last seen him. 

"I'd like you to join me for tea if that's ok," said Dumbledore to Catalina as he gave a wave of his wand.

"Oh, ok," she said, sitting down in a seat in front of the desk.

Dumbledore shot Harry a very clear look, who frowned slightly before heading towards the door. 

"I'll see you when you come out Catalina," he said, picking up her rucksack.

"Ok," was all she said, looking neither worried at the fact he was leaving, nor totally with the conversation either.

Harry had an idea her mind was probably still on the reporters outside the hospital, and there was no doubt the picture of her and Harry would be in the paper the next morning - a fact Harry wasn't much looking forward to.

He left her in the office and travelled down the stairs. He glanced at his watch and figured it would be ten minutes before the beginning of lunch and his stomach rumbled suddenly as if in agreement. He decided to wait on the entrance hall steps as Ron and Hermione would be finishing off Herbology. He couldn't wait to speak to them again, he missed them terribly during his stay at the hospital and he desperately needed to talk to them. It wouldn't be long until he wouldn't be seeing them for two whole months, the longest period of time since meeting them they'd be apart.

He could hear the footsteps staring in the corridors as classrooms began to empty, and he watched as a first year Quidditch class trooped across the lawns. He squinted at the greenhouses, seeing a line of student's exit and proceed towards the castle, already spotting Ron with his red hair.

They were both walking in silence and Harry ignored to Slytherin's who passed talking loudly about him and stood up when the two got close. It was Ron who spotted him first, who in turn nudged Hermione who looked up and gave an exclamation of surprise, rushing forward and hugging him tightly.

"Oh Harry, I'm so glad you're back, we were so worried. We heard about Catalina's mother - how is she? What happened, the Prophet didn't say much and we didn't get any owls. Is she very upset? What's happening, where is she -."

"Hermione," interrupted Harry, extricating himself from her choke hold, "slow down a sec and let me breathe."

"I'm sorry, it's just I was so worried," she said anxiously, "what's going on?"

"She's up with Dumbledore at the moment," Harry explained as they walked towards the Great Hall, "She upset alright, but not a little pissed off."

"What? Why?" asked Ron.

"She found out some stuff about her mum she didn't want to know," said Harry shrugging, "it's all been too stressful for her I think."

They sat at the Gryffindor table, oblivious to everyone's stares and whispers around them and Hermione and Ron put a little on their plates and Harry ate nothing.

"What happened to her mum?" asked Ron awkwardly, "were you there?"

"Yeah," sighed Harry, recalling the moment back in the wardroom, "she just stopped breathing you know? Just sort of sighed and closed her eyes and that was it. Dead weird, horrible."

"Sounds it," said Hermione, looking quite emotional, "is she going to be ok?"

Harry shrugged glumly again and looked around the hall, as if suddenly noticing it was there. He caught some people staring and others whispering behind hands and for some reason it angered him more than usual. Here was this terrible thing that had happened and people were just treating it like gossip, someone was dead and they thought nothing of it.

"What are you looking at?" he practically snarled at some third years further down the table.

They all busied themselves quickly with their food and Harry gave them one last glare before settling back down to his table. Harry rubbed his face tiredly, he was absolutely exhausted from sleeping in that cramped little room, well trying to sleep anyway. 

"What did the Daily Prophet say?" he asked Hermione as her and Ron tucked into their meal.

"Not a lot," she said, handing him a battered copy from her bag, "just a small article, quoted by _you_. By Rita Skeeter no less, did you know about it?"

"Yeah, I did the interview," he told her wearily and reading it through, he'd seen the draft but Skeeter was true to her word, it was a good obituary.

Ron and Hermione didn't say anything about this, sensing Harry's exhaustion and they waited around for as long as possible in case Catalina would turn up, before heading to their classes. Harry didn't have any of his stuff with him, but the teachers didn't say a word thankfully - they all knew the reason.

*

Catalina stared up at the red canopy of her bed, eyes feel itchy and sore. She'd been laid out on her bed for around two hours, not moving, lying in the same position as when she'd flopped down. All she could picture was her mothers last few moments, or cursing herself for not saying all those things she needed to tell her before she went away.

But it was too late now, the chance had gone and it wouldn't come back ever again. Not until her end anyway, though she wasn't sure if she would have anything to say to her mother if she ever did see her again. It was all too confusing now. Deegie had climbed up and fallen to sleep on her stomach some time ago and Catalina hadn't the energy or the heart to move and disturb her.

After a while she managed to reach over and pick up a heavy little paperweight of her bedside table, trying to take her mind off things as she studied it. It was full of swirling silver and gold flecks and reminded her of the colour of her school robes from her first school. On a sudden thought she threw it up into the air and with an idle finger levitated it, spinning it slowly so that it looked like a revolving planet.

A few minutes ago she'd heard the noise begin in the common room downstairs meaning classes were over and the Gryffindor's were back, being rowdy as usual. She could hear footsteps of the girls going past her door to various dorm rooms, chattering away. Eventually she heard someone enter her room and give a slight pause when they saw her lying on her bed.

She raised her head up slightly to see Lavender watching her and Catalina gave a roll of her eyes and lay back down. Just what she needed when she was feeling so down. She could still feel Lavender watching her a few moments later, a fact which greatly irritated her.

"Listen, will you just say whatever horrible little thing your thinking and go away and stop staring at me like I'm some kind of side show ok?" she told the canopy irritably.

"Oh sorry," said Lavender, sounding embarrassed, "I just wanted to say sorry, you know, about your mum. I can't imagine what it must be like to loose a parent…but I guess it must be terrible. So…sorry."

Catalina was so surprised by her roommates sympathetic tone of voice that she thought she was playing a trick on her or something, a sick trick if so. She pushed herself up onto her elbows and regarded the girls worried face and saw no trace of vindictiveness. She was quite touched in fact that the girl seemed to be genuine.

"Oh, well, thank you," she said, feeling unbalanced by this change in the mood of things, "it's nice of you to…think."

Lavender nodded and walked across to her bed, as Catalina watched suspiciously from her position propped up on the bed - surely this was some kind of wind up. You don't go from flinching at the sight of someone every time they walk into a room to offer them kind words, it just didn't happen.

"Can I ask you something?" asked Lavender suddenly, turning round and seeming unsurprised to find Catalina watching her.

"Erm, go ahead," she replied, waiting for the punchline to the joke.

"Where will you live now?" she asked in a rush, "with your mum…gone and your dad…as well."

Catalina thought the question a little personal, especially from a girl who she hardly knew, but replied honestly.

"I don't know, I haven't thought about it," she said, lying back down and continuing her vigil of the canopy, "I guess I'll rent a room or something."

"You've no family?" she asked, walking over to her bed and leaning against the post.

"No," she replied shortly, thinking of the Irish family she had, who hadn't even bothered to visit her or her mother during her final days.

"You wouldn't live with Harry?"

"I don't know, listen, why do _you _want to know?" she asked impatiently, "like you give a toss."

"I just wondered that's all," said Lavender looking hurt yet defensive, "I was worried you wouldn't have anyone -."

"Well I'm touched by your new found concern," said Catalina sarcastically, "but I didn't think murderers deserved to have anyone?"

"I don't think you're a murderer," said Lavender, in a very small voice.

Catalina gave a laugh, "Oh, so now you don't? Well that's nice to know.

"Nobody really thinks you are," said Lavender, sounding slightly angry, "we're just scared of what we don't know and even more so of what we do."

Catalina looked at the canopy defiantly. Nice to know it only took a death for everyone to decide she was innocent. But in a strange way she was quite affected by Lavender's words and her defensiveness, she almost believed her. Lavender walked off and rooted around in her side of the room for a while, as Catalina stroked Deegie's fur.

"They're downstairs, by the way," Lavender said sometime later, "they think you're still with professor Dumbledore. They're quite worried."

And with that she walked out of the room. Catalina gave a long yawn and finally sat up, stretching her muscles as she tried to get rid of he ache from her prolonged state as a statue. She clambered to her feet, Deegie dropping to the ground as she flexed her back slightly, hearing a slight crack, before she headed towards the door to. 

She guessed she might as well face the music, and picked up her schoolwork before heading down the stairs. The three were sitting facing the portrait door, obviously waiting for her return and she rounded their chairs and stood in front of them without a word.

"Catalina!" exclaimed Hermione, standing up and pulling the girl into a hug.

Catalina squeezed her eyes shut, she was fine until people showed her sympathy, or asked the godawful question 'are you ok?' - guaranteed to make any person bawl out, even if they were fine. After her long hug she pulled away and dropped into the seat across from Harry - she had made a pact with herself not to cry and let her mothers death affect her life. After all, her life had obviously never affected her mother much, that much was clear from her memory box. But the traitorous tears crept up on her anyway.

"When did you get back?" asked Ron, his way she knew of offering sympathy.

"Uh…a while ago," she said, rapidly blinking away the tears and pulling out her parchment's.

There was an uneasy silence as Hermione and Ron tried to think of something to say. They cast a floundering look at Harry, who was just staring back unhelpfully.

"How are you?" asked Hermione tentatively anyway.

"I'm fine," said Catalina, in an plausible attempt to sound normal, diligently copying out a paragraph from her Herbology textbook, "still trying to get over form Lavender upstairs just now."

"What did she say?" asked Hermione sharply, looking across to the girl sitting with Parvati.

"Nothing bad," shrugged Catalina, "she was being dead nice actually, well I think she was. Just surprised me that's all."

"I'll second that," said Harry in a distant voice.

They didn't say anything for a while, and Catalina actually forgot they were there, throwing herself into her essay 110%, cross referencing and looking up pieces of information every ten seconds for what promised to be a good mark. 

There was an unusual amount of people in the common room, the most since the cross house one had been introduced downstairs and Catalina wondered vaguely if they'd come to see if she'd flip out again. But strangely, none of them had taken up the hissing, or the snide comments, in fact, the Tower was quite quiet. The only noise was coming from a group of fifth years in one corner.

Hermione seemed to be battling between herself, on whether to say something or whether to remain tight lipped as she suspected Catalina wished for. In the end she didn't say anything, she guessed her and Harry had spoken before about her mum and there was nothing to be said that hadn't already. With a final inner battle, she gave a sigh and stood up, deciding bed was the best place for her. Ron seemed to have the same idea and guessed that as Hermione was leaving it would be ok for him to as well.

"I'll see you in the morning," he said, giving them a wave as he wandered off.

"Yeah, goodnight Catalina," said Hermione, stooping down and giving her a small hug.

"Goodnight," replied Catalina, giving them a weak grin as they both headed off their separate ways.

Silence reigned supreme as she continued to do her homework, concentrating on perfect handwriting, dotting every I and crossing every T. Harry got up from his seat and sat on one directly opposite from her as she worked away. It was actually quite easy to copy a piece of text without even thinking, your mind could wander to other things, even if you didn't want it too.

She was thinking about her mother's memory box - the question still burned inside her - why didn't she have anything of her inside it? There must have been a reason, there's was plenty of _him_, even some of Mikhail, who was never mentioned in the Firelight household again the day after he died. So why not any of her?

The simple, inescapable fact must have been that she didn't love her enough to care about things like that. It was all she could believe and the thought made tears spring to her eyes, which she battled back. It made it impossible to see the paper, which was nothing but a white blur but she continued to write out her sentence, unaware of where her quill was going.

She blinked rapidly, trying to get rid of the tears, dismayed to see one of them drop onto her masterpiece of work. Under the pretext of scratching her forehead, she dabbed her eyes with her cuff and continued her work. Opposite her, Harry gave a sigh and leant forward, flipping her book cover and snapping it shut.

"You don't have to pretend you're not upset to me," he told her as she stared at the space where the last sentence had been.

"I'm not upset," said Catalina in an even tone, laying down her quill.

She lay back in her seat and looked across to him, who was watching her with a look of resignation. She knew she must be an infuriating person to talk to sometimes - even if the person she was talking to was Harry, her semi-hemi-demi-boyfriend. To take her mind off the hear and now she thought about that for a moment, they'd sort of reached this conclusion back in St Mungo's hadn't they? When she told him she loved him, and he the same, what was that? Did that mean they were an 'item' now. If they were, it didn't really feel any different to before.

This gave her a lovely distraction indeed. For a moment she even wondered why her cheeks felt tight with old salt tear tracks.

"Why do have to lie even to me?" he asked, shaking his head slightly, "you think I'll think any less of you because you show emotions?"

"It's just easier this way," she told him after a while.

He nodded as if he understood and she lay down her quill with a sigh. She put her face in hers hands, rubbing it with exhaustion trying to get rid of the stale tears. Eventually she ran her fingers through her hair and fixed him with a sad smile.

"I guess, I'm just used to acting like this," she told him, "just confused."

"You will be," he said awkwardly, "but things will get better, they always do."

She nodded gratefully and packed away her things. She knew she couldn't get anymore work done now and maybe what she needed was a good nights rest. She got up and gave a stretch.

"Hey, before you go I need to talk to you about some stuff," he told her when he noticed her making to leave.

"Oh," she said blankly, dropping into her seat, "right. What's up?"

He looked sort of worried about what he was going to say and she began to wonder if it wasn't about their confessions at St Mungo's. Were they going to have to sit down and discuss their relationship? Catalina thought this sounded like an incredibly stupid, and frankly embarrassing idea and she geared herself up for cringe factor ten.

"It's about your mum's funeral," he said, monitoring her reaction anxiously.

She was completely derailed by this statement. Not only had she expected boyfriend-girlfriend talk, she hadn't once given thought to any kind of funeral and the word hit her like a ton of bricks. It brought her back to reality with a bump and in one single second she truly understand that her mum was gone. Not only that she was gone, but that she would soon be buried under six foot of earth.

"Listen, don't say anything right," he said, shuffling forward and pulling out some papers, "just listen ok? It's all been sorted, it's going to be on this Friday at Five Willows Cemetery, that's quite near to where you used to live - Godric's Hollow remember?"

"Right…" she managed to force out, feeling slightly blown away.

Harry took this as a good sign and consulted the huge wad of parchments in his hand, scrutinising them closely in the hope he would avoid having to deal with more tears.

"All you need to do is give me a list of people you want to, you know, invite. Friends of your mum and stuff…Dumbledore is giving us all the day off to go, and an Order guard. The press don't know and won't find out. Ok?"

"A list of people?" she repeated faintly, before trying to gather her wits about her and focus. "Right, a list of people. Well, I've got her address book," she began in a strong voice, "I'll give it you tomorrow. I don't suppose there will be many people able to come, all her friends live across the world…"

She knew she was rambling slightly and forced herself to take a calming sigh, sniffing slightly at her blocked nose the tears had left her with. Harry lay down all of the parchments and leant across the table with an encouraging smile.

"I know this is difficult now, but you've just got to be strong and know we're all here for you ok? Friends forever, you remember that?"

Of course she remembered that, what they had all promised each other the night of their Yule Ball nearly a year ago. Friends Forever Hermione had said, and Catalina had never believed her, but she'd hoped…

"I remember," she said with a watery smile, "she wrote it in my get well card."

"Good," nodded Harry, obviously satisfied she wasn't _too _upset and making a little check on a parchment in front of him. 

She was going to ask who was sorting all this stuff out, she guessed Dumbledore because Harry obviously had no clue about arranging a funeral and wake, but couldn't get the words out as she stifled a yawn. She realised how tired she truly was, it had been a long day all round and she needed to collect her thoughts before falling asleep.

"I'm going to go to bed now. I guess I'll see you in the morning," she told him, picking up her bag.

"Yeah, I guess you will," he replied, giving a small wave as she walked off, leaving him sitting on the couch alone. 

She got halfway up the stairs before deciding she wasn't really that tired and didn't really want to go to sleep now. More, she wanted to sit downstairs and talk to Harry, who she knew would still be sat down there for a while yet. After a moments indecision she placed her bag on the stairs and walked back down.

He had his head leant against the back of the sofa with his eyes closed peacefully and she tried to tiptoe over, worried he was actually sleeping.

"Forgotten something?" he asked her, leaning back over the chair and looking at her.

"No," she said, straightening up from her secretive crouch and wandering over, "didn't much feel like sleeping anymore."

"Well come sit here and I shall hypnotise you into it," he laughed, patting the seat opposite him.

After a moments indecision however, she wandered over to the couch he was slouching in and sat down next to him. He looked clearly surprised and she gave him a sheepish grin but didn't say anything.

He gave a laugh and turned to look at her, slouching down into the seat like him. He was happy to see she didn't look nervous, and was sitting close enough for their whole sides to be touching. He guessed this was all part of the new 'no-secrets' friendship deal they had - or whatever it was that had occurred whilst at St Mungo's. Whatever had happened, he was glad it had as they sat snug in the warm, empty common room.

She lent her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes peacefully and Harry grinned widely, he felt so chuffed that this person was his (sort of), that after everything that had happened, they were sitting here like they were. Not just chuffed, but proud. He felt like showing her off to everyone and proclaim loudly, but he guessed no one would be that thrilled. Especially not Dumbledore or Sirius, in fact most people. Maybe Ron and Hermione would be happy, but he didn't want to tell them yet, not until he was sure.

It would be their secret for a while he had decided. There were more important things at the moment, they had their whole lives for this, however long they would be. He suddenly remembered something, the night he found her on the astronomy tower with all those vials. He remembered how terrified he'd been when she told him her plan - he almost lost her again.

"Hey Catalina?" he asked, jostling his shoulder slightly on which she was dozing.

"Hmm?" she asked, dragging her eyes open, and looking up at him.

"I was just wondering something," he said hesitantly, "remember that time I met you on the astronomy tower, and you had the vials?"

"Yeah?" she asked sleepily, snuggling back down.

"You wouldn't ever…do that again would you?" he asked hesitantly, "because of your mum and everything…?"

She didn't reply for a second, and Harry felt the icy grip of fear at his heart. She would? She'd consider doing it again?

"No I wouldn't," she told him firmly, "I've got everything I need right here."

"Oh," was all Harry could say to that and said nothing as she drifted off to sleep. 

How weird this new 'thing' was between them. He didn't think he could get around the idea of not lying and having to be secretly in love with someone. He shifted slightly and wrapped a loose arm around her tentatively. She didn't jump or even acknowledge the move he made, maybe because she was asleep, but he relaxed anyway.

This felt good.

He could get used to this he felt.

This felt very good indeed.

*

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AN/ Well, yet again it seems to taken me forever to post, but this chapter took a lot of tweeking, always seemed to be something missing from it - I guess its hard to have two incredibly emotional themes that don't seem to really fit together…

Oh well, hope you enjoyed anyway, please read and review!

greatestofthefour - _Sorry about the cliffhanger! And that you think the stories slowing down (I think I might be with you on that one). Here's promises to move it up a notch - soon! Tell me, have you any ideas of storylines you'd like to see? I'd love if you had any suggestions!_

Salazar Slytherin szelij - _I'm glad you found the scene so touching, I found it hard to try and make people feel sorry for her mother, when she's never been introduced to either story, so they don't have any emotional connection with her - glad I seemed to have made it work!_

o0oWASPTo0o_ - To the curious Billy! Here we are in order, your answers…_

The Magus powers are making a come back, I realise its been a bit lax lately, so I think it's the next but one chapter its in, we get to see Harry and Catalina duelling! The only significance about the parseltongue is to show it was an even transference of powers, she didn't just give half of hers away, so did he. Its sort of meant to make you understand that they've both made sacrifices, and they've both lost and gained something - the perfect mutual relationship! If they did get any other powers (apart from the parseltongue, magus and emotional connection) they don't know about it yet! I'm curious as to if you have ideas about that one? The scar on her back is making a reappearance, and I'm very glad you spotted it, no-one but you has mentioned it! I'm not going to tell you who its from just yet, but its not what you guessed J Again - you are the only person to have spotted that! Draco isn't going to turn to the light side because of his feelings, and the answer to the next part is no, he didn't participate - but well done for working it out! 

I just want to say how chuffed I am to see how closely you've read the story, and how you seem to understand what's going on a lot better than most (probably even better than me!) Thanks so much, please write back!  
goldensnitch3 - _Hey there again chuck! Thanks for the review, hope you enjoy this…How goes your own story, have you started? Please tell me what you reckon of the above, and what you want to happen next!_

Archie - _You're a git! No more telling people my story plans little bro :P _

SacHigh05 - _I'm glad to see a new reader, and I'm glad you like the continuation - do you think its much different to the first one? Hope you liked this, any ideas for me to continue with?_

athenakitty_- From the beginning then, deep breath, Yes, Catalina was the rat, but she was under the imperio curse so not her fault! They lost about 30 members during the Riddle Manor Attack. Sirius got a new wand as his was snapped when he went to Azkaban. The curse was unknown that struck Mr Weasley, but don't worry, he gets better! Catalina wasn't hit by that kind of curse. Yes, Remus's car is a bit of a banga. Yes, Sirius got his motorbike back and takes Harry out for a spin in it. Yes, Harry got more clothes. No, the Dursley's house was completely destroyed, no more things of Harry's parents there. The Shakespeare is a take on Potter vs. Firelight, those are the two houses. Dean shortly get permission to have an after school football club. I think it's a cool idea for a games between the sexes, who would win though? Ah-ha, the latest break-in will have to wait until we get to Poland. Yes, they are very much connected with the others._

Phew, take a deep breath now…that answer all your questions? Do you have any more? 

Mad Ant_- Thanks for the huge vote of confidence, I found it really hard to write the deathbed scene and I'm glad your so kind! Keep on reading and reviewing and tell me what you think!_

dementorchic_- Jeez, make me feel even more guilty for not updating! I know I'm a terrible write, bows head in shame. Catalina will pull through, she always does, and now her and Harry are closer like you say - happiness all round!_

nyermen _- Hey Peter, hehehe, glad to see the last chapter title scared you! You should know me I have tons more stuff to write yet! Haven't even started! Lols, keep reading and reviewing and giving me advice!_

Ted M. Hammett _- Thanks for the help in grammar, as you can probably tell I flunked out of English years ago! I'm glad you're enjoying my story!_

someguy - _Thanks and I know you're right, it is very depressing, but it WILL get better, and its not called the gathering storm for nothing! Congrats for being reviewer **200**_

kraeg001 _- Thanks for the bow to Shakespeare, the Romeo and Juliet sonnet seemed very fitting somehow for Harry and Catalina. Nice to meet a fan of the arts. _

Aryanna - _Thanks for the review, Poland is coming along in about FOUR chapters or less, god knows why you're still reading this plot-less drivel!_

Makotochi _- Long time no speak! I'm glad you still think the quality is good! Hope this wait was shorter, thanks for the review!_

Haunting Darkness _- Hope this wasn't too long a chapter! Read and enjoy and please tell me what you think about everything! No matter how good or bad - I could always do with a bit of help!_

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Teaser Trailer: "Lord Voldemort and I cannot keep him contained forever. He will escape. And when he does it will be you he comes after, and you do not deserve the help of your former brethren any more. You have bought this upon yourself, and you will have to deal with him yourself. It has already begun."

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	27. The Timsescape

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~*~*~ Chapter Twenty Six ~*~*~

The Timescape

After finally being dragged out of bed at some ungodly hour, Harry was seriously regretting his decision to stay up late. It was past 2 when he decided the fun of having an arm with pins and needles wrapped around Catalina had slightly worn off. But as they trooped down to breakfast the next morning, yawning and slightly zombie-like in appearance Harry found they needn't have worried about staying awake in lessons, because they wouldn't be attending them that day. A parchment note delivered to them all dictated that they would spend the afternoon shopping in Hogsmeade for school supplies of stationary and uniform for their imminent trips abroad.

But it seemed other than this excellent piece of delivered news, there was another, not so nice. It took the form of the Daily Prophet and an article relegated to page five now. Harry had got hold of the paper first and had flicked through it quickly finding what he knew was going to be there, Goldwing's article on Mary Firelights death. It was headed under the impressive title _Driven to Suicide_ and featured another lovely new slur on Catalina and how her and her fathers exploits during the summer caused her mothers death.

Not only that but they'd used the photo of Harry and Catalina coming out of the hospital - holding hands. According to the Daily Prophet this was a Big Deal.

He glanced up at the others, Ron eating his breakfast unawares, Hermione giving him and understanding yet annoyed look - she knew there'd be the inevitable article and Catalina with chin in hands poking at her food. 

'How bad is it?' mouthed Hermione, nodding to the paper.

'Bad enough, don't read it,' he mimed back, feeling overwhelmingly angry at the papers once again - why did they have to keep doing this all the time?

She sighed and they continued on eating in silence. However Harry soon noticed that quite a few other Daily Prophets were being read at breakfast and that quite a few people were looking his way, and dodging out of sight when he caught their eyes. He was glad when breakfast was over and they could head back to the dorm to get ready for their shopping trip.

"On a scale of one to ten?" she asked him as they got up to go.

"Sorry?"

"How bad is the article, on a scale of one to ten?"

"Oh," he said, trying to hide the paper behind his back, "not so good, I wouldn't look at it if I were you…"

"Did they use the photo of us?" she asked flatly.

"Er, yeah."

Before he could stop her she had reached around and found the newspaper and was rifling through it until she came across the photo. She read the article slightly open-mouthed and Harry gave Hermione and wary look, which Ron shared as well, he could guess what the fuss was about. Quite a few people on the Gryffindor table and neighbouring Hufflepuff were watching her now, news of the article must have spread. 

Harry knew she'd reached the bottom when her anger peaked and worried about her reaction in front of the school. However, rather than shouting she merely dropped the paper to her side and shook her head, as if she couldn't understand the joke. 

"Why me?" she asked him quietly, as more people turned around to stare.

"Not here," Harry murmured, and she gave a start, looking round to see the hundreds of faces turned to her.

She stared at them for a long time, shaking with anger as some turned back to their food self-consciously, while others stayed around for the show.

"There's a lovely article on page five," she finally shouted at them furiously, "if you're so interested in my life get a subscription!"

"Catalina, come on," said Harry grabbing her elbow.

"No," she said, yanking it away from him, and addressing the whole crowd, "I tell you what, forget the Daily Prophet, if you'd like a minute by minute update on who I've killed recently, or which other member of my family is dead or who I chose to spend my time with then why don't you just come and ask me! Because I'm sure you've all realised by now that I'm not actually a person, with feelings and emotions, I am actually just a product of the press!"

Harry grimaced as rather than getting out of the attention of the school Catalina was just making things worse, and now McGonagall was heading down from the staff table to sort out the display. 

"Try swapping with me a day and see how you like it," she said curtly, dropping the newspaper on the Gryffindor table and pushing past Harry to get out. 

Harry, Ron and Hermione shared another look and hurried after her, Professor McGonagall catching Harry by the door and demanding a few short words. Meanwhile Ron and Hermione were hurrying back to the dorms, both of them unsure of what to say to Catalina, and as such had decided simply not to say anything.

"I just needed to get that off my chest," she told them in the common room, "sorry."

"You don't need to apologise to us," shrugged Ron, looking over to the Portrait as Harry entered.

"Its in the past," she told them all firmly, before plastering a smile across her face, "lets have fun missing potions and divination eh?"

Heartened by her obvious change of mood, they both made their ways up to their dorms and Harry followed Catalina until they had to split up on the stairs. Before they broke up he reached out and took hold of her elbow. She looked at him blankly as he searched his eyes for whatever he was looking for.

"You're ok?" he asked her finally, making the question sound like a deeper, more meaningful one than she'd have thought.

"You know me," she answered, feeling like she did whenever Dumbledore gazed at her over his glasses - like her soul was being read.

"I do," he said, "that's why I'm worried."

"There's nothing to be worried about," she told him lightly, "I just get tired by all these articles and the stuff they say about me."

"You don't think I believe anything they say do you?" he asked her seriously.

The slight pause was enough to tell him that some small treacherous part of her probably had wondered, especially after today's. 

"No, of course not," she laughed though and he felt slightly relieved.

"Good," he said firmly, "well, are you going to be ok today?"

"I've already told you I'm fine," she told him bemusedly, her previous mood evaporating entirely. 

"I can't keep track of your moods," he laughed affectionately, "should nickname you yo-yo"

"What's Yo-Yo mean?" she asked with a crooked smile.

"Nothing," he said, finally dropping her elbow, "just means you have more ups and downs than anyone I know."

"Its part of my secret charm, what can I say?" she shrugged, before sniggering, "listen, lets get changed and go before Hagrid gets worried."

"Right, see you in a minute."

It was bitterly cold outside and there was an early frost gripping the countryside around them, so they located their winter cloaks and warmers. They met in the common room dressed to the nines, with Gryffindor scarves wrapped around their necks thick black gloves on and heavy winter cloaks. They had to admit they looked a bit overdressed, but were glad for it when they walked down to the cabin to meet Hagrid, who would be accompanying them, and were nearly frozen solid.

They had a cup of tea with Hagrid before they left to warm up and he forced ginger biscuits into their hand that tasted as if the whole root of the plant had been added to the mixture. It sure warmed their throats up at least.

"So, are yeh all ready to go now?" asked Hagrid finally, pulling on his thick fur coat and heavy boots.

"All set," said Ron getting up a discarding the biscuit in a nearby pot plant discreetly.

So, armed with the schools money, shopping list and a distinctly burning mouth, they set off to Hogsmeade. The ground was quite slippy and the frost had turned into misleading black ice in patches as they practically skated down the road. Catalina and Harry amused themselves watching Hermione, who kept sliding over into the waiting arms of Ron every five minutes. 

"I mean once I could understand," laughed Catalina to him quietly, "but that's the seventh time _I've _counted, seventh!"

"Aw bless, leave them to their fun," mocked Harry as Hermione gave a sudden squeal.

"Oops, there she goes again," snickered Catalina, "I may just copy her and see the reaction."

"Nah I wouldn't try it," said Harry nonchalantly, "You'd just hurt yourself."

"And why's that?" she queried, eyes glinting with mischief.

"I wouldn't catch you," he replied simply, ducking as she aimed a swift blow at his arm, "no need to get violent!"

"I'm a Taurus," she said poking her tongue out, "we're famous for it."

"Chuh! That's _your _excuse," he said dismissively, "but you don't look bull-like to me in any way."

"That just because you've never seen me with my horns in," she said in an off-beat way.

"Oh right, and where do you keep these horns?" Harry asked, grinning again as Hermione slid over.

"Which ones?" she asked.

"You have more than one pair?" he laughed, enjoying the way their rambling conversation was becoming even more bizarre.

"Oh yeah, all Taurians do," she said simply, "I have my normal horns, for you know, casual day-wear. And then I have my sequinned horns for special occasions."

"Righttttt," said Harry, backing away slowly, "so you've been a sequinned bull all this time and I never knew?"

"I think you'll find the correct term is bull_een_," she said knowledgeably.

"No it's not!" said Harry, "you've just made that up!"

"I know," she shrugged, "but it sounds good."

"Right then my little sequinned bull_een_," laughed Harry, "I'm still not going to catch you, horns or not."

As soon as he said this he promptly gave a yell and disappeared from sight, hitting the ground with a pained yelp. Ron and Hermione turned around to see him cussing loudly, and Catalina unable to breathe for laughter.

"Who say's you're the one who's going to be doing the catching?" Catalina spluttered, before giving into the hilarity of it all.

"Come on yeh guys," said Hagrid, trying to appear disapproving though his beard twitching slightly, "we've got lots to do, and yeh need to be back for classes."

"Yeah," said Harry, accepting Hagrid's hand to get up off the floor, "some of us have better things to do than being sat in a frozen puddle being _mocked_."

"Would I mock you?" asked Catalina innocently.

"Er, let me think about that….yes!" said Harry, being wrenched into the air by Hagrid.

"Kids!" cautioned Hagrid before setting off again, "I hope yeh gonna be a bit more serious than this in foreign places. I don't think yeh realise what's in store for yeh!"

"Yeah we do," grumbled Ron, "that's _why_ we're acting like this now. Sort of like storing up the good times, like squirrels do with nuts."

Hermione gave him a look before they approached the village of Hogsmeade, the tiny houses looking chocolate box standards, with little cottages covered in frost and a light scattering of snow. They approached the centre of the town and Harry was confused by the appearance of a statue where once had been just a square.

Hermione noticed his puzzled look and sidled up to him.

"It's for the Halloween attack last year," she explained in a low voice no one else would hear, "sort of like a memorial stone."

"Oh," was all Harry could say to that.

He had forgotten that the last time he had visited this village was the date of that attack, when he and Catalina were nearly killed by the most serious of all unforgivable curses. He felt slightly sick at the memory, but brushed it aside, remembering would do no good to anyone. Thankfully Catalina had only ever visited the place once before, and as such didn't really notice the new memorial.

"Right," said Hagrid suddenly, drawing them into a circle around him, "I'm just gonna go down and see to some business in The Three Broomsticks. Yeh lot got yeh list?"

"Yup," they all chimed, waving them about as proof.

"Good. Now I think we can trust yeh to go a get yeh own stuff. So, be careful and I'll see you in the pub when yeh finished. We want to be back at school in time for last lesson at _least_."

"Yeah, see you later Hagrid," said Harry, waving him off as they looked at their lists.

"Ok, well say's here we have robes to be fitted at Gladrag's," said Hermione, looking at point number one, "how about we start there?"

They all agreed and trooped across the square, the bell tinkling in a jolly way as they stepped into the shop and shook the snow from their hair. They unwrapped their scarves slightly and waited for the shop assistant to appear.

"Hey Rudolph, nice look," said Harry, nudging Hermione and flicking her bright red nose.

"Hey," laughed Hermione rubbing it and nodding to his own face, "could say the same thing to you. What are you on, a break at the moment?"

"Well I usually only work one day a year," shrugged Harry, "what else is a reindeer supposed to do with his time?"

"Are you two on any type of medication by any chance?" asked Ron suddenly, "and if so, why isn't it working?"

"Ha ha ha," laughed Hermione sarcastically, "very funny."

"Sounds like I'm not the only one popping potions," snickered Catalina to Ron.

"This sounds like a muggle thing to me," Ron told her mistrustfully, "you think so?"

"Yeah, I think you may be right," replied Catalina, "either that or they really are insane."

"I'm tempted with the latter," mocked Ron, "would explain a lot…"

"Do you want me to hit you?" asked Hermione sweetly - Ron looked suddenly nervous.

"Can I help you?" came a warm voice from the disembodied head floating near the curtain to a small door.

Ron looked quite relieved for the distraction and Harry smiled, it was quite clear who wore the trousers in their relationship.

"Yes please, we're here to be fitted for some robes Hogwarts have ordered?" asked Hermione politely.

"Ah, of course, the Beauxbaton's and Grimbit's sets?" asked the head, which was shortly followed by its body appearing from behind the doorway.

"Yes, that's right," said Hermione, as the woman walked over to a podium.

Harry was surprised to see the woman made no double takes, didn't stare at his scar, or glare at Catalina. In fact he doubted she even registered their faces, or who they were. It was quite a nice feeling.

"Come on then dearies," said the woman after the four hadn't moved, "Grimbit's up on here first and we'll get you measured up."

Harry went up first, standing on the podium self-consciously as Hermione and Ron wandered off into the shop and Catalina made herself comfy on a nearby stool.

"If you wouldn't mind taking off your scarf and over-cloak?" asked the woman briskly, whipping out a number of tape measures, which all began to float mid-air, "I want just the clothes you'll wear underneath."

A few minutes later and Harry found himself being forcibly reminded of the time he had been measured up for his wand, with the tape measures taking bizarre readings and looking like props from the exorcist in their own specially possessed way. All the way through this process, the woman was keeping a running commentary on their new uniform.

"The finished product will look something like this," she said, motioning to Harry's as yet un-tailored cloak that was lolling mid-air, "as you can see it is black in colour, the outer cloak is fur lined on the inside for warmth. It's very cold at this time of year you see."

"Ha!" said Harry, pointing to Catalina triumphantly, "Told you it's a cold place."

"Oh come on, that's all you're worried about?" she said rolling her eyes, as the fitter took up the commentary again.

"School crest is located on the left hand side, with the house you belong to superimposed on top of it. Of course we'll leave that blank until you're sorted, I'm sure they'll have a tailor handy. So, bear in mind its heavy fabric and a colour that's likely to show up magical spillage's. It's got a water-repelling charm on them mind you, but it only lasts a few months, then you'll have to renew it."

The woman suddenly paused and stepped back and squinted at Harry, before suddenly lunging at him with the un-tailored cloak and wrestling it over his head. Harry emerged looking startled at the bizarre woman and he could hear Catalina trying to stifle a giggle.

She was certainly right about it being heavy material though, it felt about a stone heavier than his Hogwarts robe and it was quite hot with the thin layer of fur. She carried on going on about the materials properties until she was finished and allowed him to step back down.

"Right young lass, up you get," said the woman, manhandling Catalina over to the podium before Harry had even finished climbing down.

Harry took up position in Catalina's previous seat and sat with the folded Grimbit's robe on his lap. He liked the schools crest, a shield with two tree's growing inside it, the roots all joining up at the bottom to give the effect of only one tree instead. It was all sewn into it with dark grey cotton, yet the tree looked somehow as realistic and alive as it would have done in colour or a photo.

"Robe off so I can see your clothes," instructed the bossy woman.

Catalina rolled her eyes at the woman's tone, with its heavy Scottish accent, but pulled her robe over her head anyway. Harry laughed to himself as she struggled to extricate herself from it, before she chucked it at him. She was wearing the same shirt she had when they had had their 'nearly kiss' and in fact had the same low jeans on as well. The woman didn't much care for them and made a few comments on the inadequacy of 'those muggle frauds who call themselves tailors.'

"Spread your arms out wide dearie," said the woman as Catalina obliged.

Harry snickered again and she cast him a withering look, "Oh grow up why don't you?"

Harry merely bobbed out his tongue in retaliation, causing her to roll her eyes again.

"Been in the wars have we?" asked the woman unconcernedly.

"Why do you say that?" asked Catalina suspiciously.

"The bandage," nodded the woman, "on your arm there. Been up to mischief?"

Now that she mentioned it, Harry could see a white bandage wrapped around Catalina arm and elbow, almost obscured by her shirt. You could only see it because she had her arms spread wide and her shirt had rode up, Catalina looked pale faced at the woman's words.

"Quidditch injury," she said shortly, staring ahead defiantly.

He caught her gaze which was odd in it's lack of emotion or explanation. He frowned slightly.

"Dangerous sport, dangerous sport," muttered the woman, "my brother once broke his knee playing that _sport_. I tell you it's lethal that game."

"Certainly," agreed Catalina, and Harry remembered Mikhail.

"Right, head down," said the woman as she threw on Catalina's robe which was dark grey instead of the black of Harry's, "give me a few seconds to pin this then we'll be done."

Harry frowned in thought as Catalina was being pinned and prodded by the woman who obviously had no idea who she was. What was all that about a Quidditch injury? Harry knew fully well that they hadn't played Quidditch for a week, that she hadn't been hurt apart from the wayward bludger a few weeks ago, and that in fact her arm wasn't injured at all.

He was side-tracked by the reappearance of Ron and Hermione, who stood and chatted for the last few minutes of Catalina's fitting. Finally she was allowed to step down and threw on her Hogwarts robe quickly and walked over to them.

"Nice robes," commented Hermione, rubbing the material of Catalina's between her fingers, "hey - why's yours a different colour to Harry's?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, before turning to the woman, "er, just a quick question? I think there may be a mistake with our robes, aren't they supposed to be the same colour?"

"No, that's correct. The female robe is traditionally a light grey in colour, while the men's have always been black," she told them, already setting up Hermione's robe on the side.

"Why is that?" asked Hermione curiously.

"It's a status thing, a man is typically viewed as superior to the women of the country, and as such should be distinguished in his attire."

"What?" cried Hermione indignantly, "they can't do that! That's sexism!"

"Oh god," muttered Ron so low only Harry heard, "first elvish welfare and now women's rights…"

"They can and they do dear, now would you care to step up?" asked the woman, unfazed by Hermione's outraged stance.

"Don't accept it Catalina," Hermione told her angrily, "demand for a black robe, I would! They can't say a woman is inferior to a man!"

Ron looked like he desperately wished to say something to this, but sensibly held his tongue. He's learning, thought Harry charitably, you've got to hand it to him, a few years ago Ron would have jumped at an opportunity like that.

"I'm fine with this Hermione," laughed Catalina, who was still looking scandalised at the whole idea, "seriously I am. It's only a colour."

"It's not the fact of the colour, it's the principle of the thing! It's the thinking behind the decision," she cried.

"I think I'll cope," she said serenely, "unlike men, us women don't need to satisfy a clearly underdeveloped self-confidence flaw in our brains with silly thing like different coloured material."

"Ouch, below the belt," groaned Ron, "you'd make a better activist than Hermione with cutting remarks like that."

Catalina laughed and Hermione grudgingly climbed up onto the podium, still muttering about sexism under his breath. Harry had seen enough of the Beauxbaton's robes in his fourth year to know what to expect with Ron and Hermione's, so he took the chance to have a look around the shop for himself. His dress robes were too short for him now by inches so he was vaguely thinking of buying another pair as he looked around. 

"So dearie, are you looking for anything in particular or just browsing?" asked Catalina from behind him in an uncanny imitation of the tailors bossy Scottish accent.

"Thought I might need a new dress robe," he told her, flicking through a rack of multicoloured robes.

"Ah, for the clubbing and pubbing in Poland?" she asked, joining him in his search.

"Something like that," he laughed, pulling one out, "how about this?"

It was a multicoloured, striped robe, which actually hurt his eyes to look out. It was on the sale rack - and no wonder. Catalina took one look at it and scrunched up her nose.

"There's no way I'm dancing with you looking like a…a…well there's no word for what that robe make you look like," she said simply, "but you would look like one, and a total one at that."

"Your grasp of the English language is so good," mocked Harry, "beautiful in fact."

"Shut it you," she said, pulling out a navy set, "how about this?"

Harry looked at it for a second and made a neutral noise in the back of his throat.

"That's a no then," she said slipping it away, "this one?"

It was dark green, in fact almost a carbon copy of his old ones. But then again the only problem with his old ones as the length not the colour.

"That one's good."

"But it's exactly the same as your old ones," said Catalina, "if you want a new one you should get something, you know, _different_ maybe?"

"I like my old ones," he said plaintively, "I only need new ones because my old ones are too short."

"Oh well if that's all the trouble is get Hermione to fix them," said Catalina, "she's been practising sewing charms for the trousers or something or other she's making for Dobby. She can put you a new hem on in a second."

"Well, crisis averted then," said Harry happily, "now I'll have new robes _and _won't have to pay a thing. So now while we're here do _you _need new ones?"

She gave a thoughtful look at the ceiling, as if she was examining the contents of her trunk that were magically plastered to it. 

"Nah, I've got my white ones from last year and a dress from the year before I can always where. So now we _both _have spent no money and have robes. All is well with the world."

"Alright little miss sarky," laughed Harry, "come on, they should be ready by now. That is if Hermione hasn't created a sit down protest about having different material to Ron's robes."

They wandered back into the shop and found the others at the counter, already paying for both their working robes and cloaks together. Soon Harry and Catalina had handed over their money and were walking out of the shop, the bell tinkling farewell to them. 

"Man this list is huge," groaned Ron, taking a look at his, "we'll be here all day."

"Last lessons Transfiguration," reminded Harry.

"Man this list is huge!" repeated Ron happily, "we'll be here all day!"

They all laughed and sat down on the edge of a fountain for a few seconds as they tidied up their bags and took a look down the list. Quills, potion ingredients, books, parchment, the list was never ending. Good job the Order were paying for it all and not them - Ron's mum and dad would have had a heart attack.

"Well we best get started then," said Catalina, "how about the apothecary first?"

Hermione gave Catalina a look that the two boys missed and piped up suddenly.

"Actually," said Hermione meaningfully, "Ron and I have got to go and pick up a few textbooks first."

"Oh good," said Harry thoughtfully, "so have we, we'll come with you then we -"

"Actually Harry," said Catalina applying a small force to his foot with her own, "we really have got to get to Scrivenshaft's first haven't we?"

"What? Oh, right, yeah you're right," he said, catching her raised eyebrows and meaningful expression.

"Super," said Hermione happily, already jumping up and pulling Ron to his feet, "we'll meet you back in the pub with Hagrid? Ok, great, see you later, goodbye."

And with that they were gone as if they couldn't get away fast enough. Harry frowned at their disappearing backs and turned to Catalina.

"_Do _we have to go to Scrivenshaft's first?" he asked looking confused.

"Of course we don't," she said, also watching the two with a smile on her face, "Hermione wanted to be alone with Ron I think, she was giving me really obvious looks the whole time."

"Was she?" asked Harry, feeling even more confused, "I'm guess still getting used to the fact those two want to spend time alone. When we were younger it seemed the only reason they were friends sometimes was because I was there in the middle. Neutral territory like."

"Well not anymore," said Catalina making Harry feel sad all of a sudden, "I suppose you better get used to those two wanting to hang around together more. They have been going out for about three months now."

"Yeah, I suppose so," said Harry heavily, climbing to his feet, "I preferred it before though, when it was us three, and then four. Now its always them two going it alone…"

Catalina stood up to, and gave him a sympathetic look, "Well then, until that time that they either break up or get bored of each other, I guess you're just going to have to put up with me."

She started walking towards Scrivenshaft's and Harry caught up with her.

"I didn't mean it like that you know," he said worriedly, afraid he might inadvertently offended her.

"I know that Harry," she said laughing at his anxious expression.

He gave a laugh of relief and she bumped his shoulder, "you need to lighten up."

"Ok, ok, am light," he said as they walked down the quiet street.

She gave him a slight smile and he was just looking at the names of some of the shops around when he felt her slip her hand into his. They still both had gloves on, but she twined her fingers into his and looked off into the other direction, acting as if she'd done nothing special.

Harry couldn't help but grin widely, to think over three weeks ago she would have gone mental if he'd bumped her shoulder in the corridor, and here they were walking down the middle of a frosty Hogsmeade high street holding hands. Less than a week ago they hadn't been talking due to 'the argument', and now this…

It was all too much for Harry who felt hard pushed to contain a sudden whoop of joy that was threatening to escape his lips. He settled for beaming widely like an idiot as she swung her arm unconsciously as they approached the shop. It was amazing how one little expression, like holding hands, could make you feel so…so great.

Annoyingly, he had to let go as they walked through the doorway and she went in ahead of him, tipping down her hood and looking around. 

"I just need a replacement quill, I'll be five ticks," she told him, wandering off into the nearest isle and out of sight.

When she'd gone Harry gave another wide smile and walked over to the counter with a new spring in his step. He was feeling impossibly happy at that very instant and was hard pushed not to go over to the shopkeeper who was working in the corner and tell him the fantastic news.

Instead he hovered by the counter as he waited, glancing over a line of quills that caught his eye. They were advertised as 'special feature' quills, as there was a long line of them in different colours, all standing to attention on the parchments underneath. He recognised 'quick quill quotes' from his fourth year, an acid green feather that had a line of conversation and description of the last customer to use it (apparently she was a tall, white haired stranger with soulless black eyes and skin the colour of midnight).

The next one along was advertised as being able to write what you dictated to it (in your own handwriting), and the next could be taught to write the same thing over and over again. Another could only write the truth (Skeeter should have had one of those, Harry thought dryly) and the last one had no blurb of explanation above it.

It was a normal looking feather, almost pigeon like in its colour and was standing quivering like the others. Despite warnings from his head he took hold of and examined - normal enough looking. He looked around for the ink but there wasn't any about, so he shrugged and lowered it to the page.

__

My name is Harry Potter.

The quill must have had ink stored in it because the words were traced out in blue ink. Harry gave it a curious look, the pen wrote really well, no scratching or ink blotting. He placed it back down on the paper and as soon as he let go it stood up, waiting for the next customer.

Harry was just about to walk off when he saw the pen start to move out of the corner of his eye. He moved back towards it and watched with a sudden chilling feeling as the pen floated across the parchment, red ink this time spelling out the words;

__

Hello Harry Potter, 

Harry didn't know whether to cry out in alarm or keep calm. The last time he'd written into something that had replied to him, more had been added to it's first sentence, 'My name is Tom Riddle. How did you come by my diary?'.

With a horribly pounding heart and a mind full of questions he hesitantly picked up the pen again.

__

Who is this?

The ink was now blue again for his reply and Harry waited as nothing happened. Finally he decided it was merely a practical joke pen, something that should have been in Zonko's but had winded up in Scrivenshaft's instead. He placed the pen back on the page, where it hovered. He was just about to walk away for the second time when it began to move, red ink for the reply.

__

Guess.

Harry glared suspiciously at the page, but picked up the quill again.

__

Riddle?

His blue inked answer waited and he let go of the quill immediately, realising whoever it was couldn't write back again if was holding it.

__

What is more powerful than God, more evil than the Devil, if you eat it you die, rich people want it, poor people have it…What am I?

Harry nearly laughed with relief. He had merely been suggesting the name of the person he was conversing with, but whoever it was thought he was asking for a riddle. At least he could rule out Voldemort as being in control of a quill in Scrivenshaft's - which, now he thought about it, sounded incredibly stupid.

__

I don't know, replied Harry, shaking his head at his own stupidity, _who is this?_

Guess.

Harry thought for a few seconds, and the quill began to move again.

__

Don't you recognise my writing?

Harry looked at it more closely now and he figured out instantly who it was, before the quill began to move again writing out a long list of words in a strange language Harry guessed must be Chinese. He gripped the quill halfway through its writing and wrote something back with a grin on his face.

__

Ok, ok I know it's you now. Where are you?

About three aisles back from you. This quill is a great invention don't you think? I wonder how far away they can work?

I don't know, but it they worked at a distance they'd be really handy. We could give one to Ron and Hermione to take with them. Instant owls.

The quill didn't write back when he let go and he was just examining it to see if he'd broken it when she turned up behind him. She brandished a piece of parchment, which had his handwriting on it, an exact copy of the piece in front of him.

"Cool invention eh?" she asked him, grinning.

"Very," he laughed, "you scared me before - I had no idea who was writing to me!"

"I know, I could see your face from back there," she laughed as the shopkeeper headed towards them.

"What was all that about asking for a riddle -?" she began to ask before the salesman cut in.

"Anything I can help you with?" he asked Harry, ignoring Catalina beside him.

"Yeah, how far away do these quill's work?" he asked, motioning to the grey feather behind him.

"Ah the IMS Quill, very popular. Yes, unlimited distance I'm happy to say, I myself have a brother in Australia who writes to me every day with his," said the shopkeeper proudly.

"Unlimited distance?" said Harry meaningfully to Catalina, it would be perfect to converse with Ron and Hermione in France.

"Yes, it's a very fine quill. Feather is from the Geminus Fowl," said the shopkeeper, sounding like Hermione answering a question in class, "the bird is noted for _always_ having an identical twin, which carries out the action of its sibling in perfect sync. The feathers from the twins will always copy each other, lifetime's guarantee."

"Sounds great," said Harry eagerly, turning to Catalina, "shall we?"

"Ok, ok, get one," she said, "I'll give you half and we can make it their leaving present."

Soon they handed over the money for the two quills and Catalina's replacement one for classes and headed back out into the street, checking their list. 

"Ok we've got to get textbooks from Flourish and Blotts, Snape's given us a new list of potions and ingredients to get and we also need one more thing…" she said looking up happily, "lunch!"

"Sounds good to me," laughed Harry, "where to?"

"I don't know, I've only ever been here once before and we didn't do much sightseeing then," she shrugged, "so I'll leave it to the expert."

"I'm sure they'll be a café around here somewhere," suggested Harry, "we'll just have to walk till we find one."

They set off down the high street again, Harry nearly bursting out into song when she slipped her hand back into his again and walked a little closer.

*

"Hey Ron," hissed Hermione over her shoulder across the quiet bookshop, "psst Ron!"

"What?" asked a voice from beside her, causing her to jump slightly with a little squeak.

"Don't sneak up on me like that," she scolded him and he laughed at her.

"You were calling for me weren't you master?" asked Ron with a gracious bow, "and did I not come to your call?"

"Ha ha ha, very funny smart alec," she said, eyes still glued to the murky window she was looking out of, "I wanted to show you something."

"What -?" began Ron as his gaze followed Hermione's pointing finger, trailing off his question.

He could see Harry and Catalina walking down the centre of the high street, but that wasn't what was so shocking. The shocking thing was, Harry was holding Catalina's hand, and not only that she wasn't going mental, on the contrary they were both grinning and laughing and standing _very _close together.

"I don't believe it," said Ron in a shocked voice, "I _don't _believe it."

"That's the first thing I thought when I saw them!" said Hermione, in an awed whisper, "this is fantastic news!"

Ron couldn't help but agree, _finally_. It had taken those two over a year to hold hands. He just hoped it wouldn't be a similar time span until anything else happened.

"You know, I think something happened at the hospital," said Ron slowly, "something they haven't told us about."

"Yeah well, you saw today's Prophet didn't you? There was a grainy picture then of them holding hands but I hadn't thought anything of it, the photo practically looked fake," said Hermione with a frown, "and they're always making stuff up about them."

"Hmmm," said Ron, still watching his best friends retreating back, feeling somewhat let-down.

"Has he said anything to you?" Hermione asked him, obviously sensing what was on his mind.

"No," said Ron shortly, walking away from the window and carrying the French textbooks, "but I wouldn't expect him to have."

"But Catalina hasn't said anything to me," added Hermione slowly, "and she _does _talk to me…maybe this is something new? I'll ask her tonight."

"And meanwhile can we get back to us please? Lets buy these books and get some lunch. I'm starving."

*

As Harry and Catalina made their way to the apothecary down one of the smaller alleys of Hogsmeade, Ron and Hermione were heading towards a small teashop with the aim in mind to buy enough coffee and cake to sink a small battleship. They walked down the street bickering good naturally before Ron was knocked to the floor by a woman striding down the street oblivious to most passers by, and in fact, most of the scenery such as bins and pavements.

"Watch where you're going," said the tall, black woman icily as she continued her progress down the street, ignoring Ron sitting in the slush surrounded by his parcels.

"And the same to you!" Ron shouted back, trying to rescue the textbooks before they went all soggy, "stuck up cow…"

"How rude," said Hermione, looking angrily at the retreating woman who was heading towards the market in the centre of the village.

"Here, hold these," said Ron, passing up wet bags and shaking things out, "some people…"

Meanwhile, in the market Harry and Catalina were tucking into a piping hot pasty as they balanced on the edge of a small fountain, feet surrounded by a litter of bags.

"Are we nearly done?" asked Harry through a mouthful of food as he peered at the list in her hands.

"Mmm," she nodded, before swallowing and peeling off the edge of the crust thoughtfully, "I think so. We've got uniforms, textbooks _including _dictionary, very important, potions ingredients, quills, parchment, ink _and_ lunch."

He nodded along to her and held out his hand wordlessly as she deposited her crusts on it, running over his own list.

"Fantastic," said Harry happily, watching some of the market trading at the nearby exotic flower stall before eating her crusts, "that means we have a whole hour to spare until we meet the others."

"Yeah, what _will_ we find to do with our time until then?" asked Catalina with an arched eyebrow, before noticing a customer being assaulted by a large spaghetti-like plant across from them, "ouch that's gonna hurt in the morning."

"He won't be able to write for a while," agreed Harry dryly, bundling up the paper bags from lunch together and passing them to her, "go on then, practise your aim with these in the bin."

"I never miss," she told him, managing to sink the bundle in a careless throw, "see?"

"Yeah, you're just perfect aren't you?" he simpered sarcastically as she turned her nose up in fake pomposity.

"Glad to see you've finally noticed!" she laughed, before a slight shadow passed over her face.

"What's up?" Harry asked her immediately, noticing the happy look slide of her face in confusion.

"No - nothing," she finally said, cocking her ear as if to hear something, "I just felt a bit weird then…"

Harry looked around, Catalina usually had good observational skills and noticed when things were wrong a long time before he ever did, "How so?"

"Like -" she began, before cutting off and a strange look passed across her face, "_That._"

She jumped up, as did he, looking around warily. She made a sudden jerk movement as if she were about to touch the crook of one elbow and he understood what it meant - Death Eater activity.

He reached forward and took hold of her hand, pulling her through the crowd quickly, "Let's find Hagrid, and the others, just in case."

"It's not Them," she told him as they wove through the crowded market, "it doesn't hurt enough for it to apply to here. This is something else…"

Not Death Eaters then, thought Harry in relief, but still something none the less. As he looked across the square he felt an odd feeling steal over himself, a slow creeping sensation that he was unable to put into words.

"Can you feel…something…"

Harry trailed off suddenly and she looked over to him questioningly to see he was staring fixedly off into the distance. He was seemingly transfixed by the sight of something and alarm bells began to go off in her head almost instantly. The volume of the hustle and bustle of the market had disappeared and the crowds had stopped moving.

It took her only nanoseconds to realise that they hadn't just stopped what they were doing, they had _stopped_. Harry was apparently frozen mid-sentence, a hand shielding his eyes from the weak sun, and all around her were statues of former market-goers, all paused in the middle of a transaction or examining goods and chatting to friends. She could see various spells hovering mid air and a bird about to land on the signpost to The Three Broomsticks.

Catalina felt an unnatural panic rise inside of her, as her heart hammered in the silent world. She tried to pull her hand out of Harry's, which seemed to be frozen solid, but not cold, merely the same temperature as usual. She couldn't pull it out though, his grip was too strong and inflexible - she was trapped, with no chance of escape. She desperately looked around the market, _everyone _was frozen but she knew somebody else must be alive like her, someone powerful, because there was only one explanation for something like this happening.

Magic.

And powerful magic at that. She now knew what was happening, words echoed from long ago in her memory, a tale told in Lu Tze's voice. A tale about a gift a magus could possess, but only the most powerful, sorcerer-like magus's, that of Timescaping. 

And she knew exactly who it would be. There could be only one explanation of why she alone seemed to be stuck inside someone's Timescape, and that was that the person demanded a private conference with her.

The thought of meeting her father again filled her with icy dread, a fear that went much further than the basic human emotion and instinct. A fear in her very soul. She felt tears prick the corners of her eyes as a million and one memories came back to haunt her.

For the good it would do, she drew her wand and held it in a shaking grip in front of her, brandishing it like a sword, anything to feel more protected than she actually was, playing sitting duck, waiting for him. She was breathing in quick, short rasps, feeling the fear and panic wash over her as she battled in vain to be released from Harry's grip, which was unmoving. 

"Let go," she moaned out loud, her voice echoed around the silent world, "please…"

The silence of the reply was enough to make her want to cover her ears with her hands, never before had she heard the sound of silence and it was enough to send her into a paralysis of fear, trapped, with no escape, waiting.

The sound of footsteps travelled across the silence like deafening drums, audible over the sound of her panicked ramblings, her beating heart and her scuffling feet as she tried to escape. She turned quickly left and right to locate the sound and suddenly pinpointed it to right in front of her.

"Harry," she pleaded desperately, "Harry, _please_, let me go! Harry!"

"He won't be able to hear you," came a voice only metres away from her.

She let out an audible gasp of fear, startled by how quickly the person had approached them from the other side of the market square. From between two old crones in front of Catalina stepped a lady, standing a little over six foot, she was the tallest woman she had ever seen with pure white hair was in deep contrast to her midnight black skin. 

"Who are you?" whispered a terrified Catalina already knowing, trying to back as far away as possible whilst still being anchored to Harry.

"Stand up straight and look me in the eye when you speak," barked the woman.

There was only one person who would speak to her like that, only one person who exudes from every pore of their body the same power of authority, the same strictness of voice. Despite the emotions that were whirling inside of her at this family reunion, despite the anger, loathing and hate, she felt herself doing as he commanded before she could stop.

The woman gave a bark of laughter the rang with an odd tinny sort of resonance, "Good, I see I've trained you well."

"You haven't trained me in anything," she hissed back, fear crashing down on her and she struggled desperately.

"Hold your tongue," snapped the woman, "I will tolerate no insolence from _you_."

Despite the hate filled tirade she wished to hurl at her father, she felt herself swallowing back her words once again. It was only then that she could properly focus on the situation. The odd ringing tone of the woman's voice was confusing her brain slightly, it was as if everything she said was being spoken by two voices from the same mouth, milliseconds out of sync with each other. And not only that, but the words she was speaking were not in time with the movements of her mouth, again milliseconds out. It was only a tiny thing, but it side-tracked and confused her when she needed her full concentration.

The way she looked at it, she was going to be very lucky if she got out of this alive. No one to rescue her now, no possible chance of escape. Only one hand to use her powers with, her left as opposed to her preferred right. And even if she had both hands, what use was that against a magus of her fathers quality. She wasn't prepared to take the risk that the person in front of her Charles Firelight was possessing couldn't use his powers.

"That's better," cautioned the woman, "obviously you have learned a lot this summer Aurora."

"Don't call me that, it is not my name," she said through clenched teeth.

The woman's hand came out of no where and was travelling to fast for her to see or avoid. The force of the blow to her face snapped her head around to the side and stung her cheek, making her eyes water terribly. She turned back slowly to the woman, watching her cautiously from behind a curtain of hair.

"I will not tolerate insolence," she repeated, standing tall and glaring down at her, "show the proper respect."

Catalina whimpered in response, finding her courage rapidly leaving her and feeling overcome with fear. She didn't want her life to end like this, in an instant in which Harry would never understand or have any recollection of. The wand that was being held shakily in front of her was slowly lowered to her side and she dropped her eyes submissively.

"That's better," she said, her voice taunting, "Now. If the papers of this country are to be believed your mother is dead."

She gave a choked sob at this and nodded dumbly.

"Aurora," he growled warningly.

"Yes sir," she said hastily, in a weak voice.

"How did this happen?" he demanded of her.

Catalina swallowed before answering, standing straight and looking him in the eyes as she was always taught to do.

"She…she starved to death," Catalina whispered, her voice shaking horribly.

"Speak up girl I can't hear you," the woman warned her.

"She starved to death," said Catalina in a loud voice that bounced around the silent world, "because of you!"

Again, the woman's hand connected with the side of her face and she gasped out in surprise and pain, being knocked off balance. She fell towards the ground, but before she hit the dirt floor she was suddenly wrenched to a halt and sat in an awkward dangle, being saved only by Harry's grip.

"Get up," commanded the odd voice, and Catalina's knees stumbled into order. 

The woman took a step closer to Catalina, who visibly flinched. She could feel her father staring back out of the woman's black eyes and she wished to flee as far away as possible from his presence but was unable to do so.

"Lucius assured me that St. Mungo's was taking the utmost priority with her care," he mused almost to himself.

Catalina trembled at his words, he must have been speaking about Lucius Malfoy - how much sway did that man hold over St Mungo's? The woman in front of her seemed to break out of her thoughts and turned an small, worrying smile towards Catalina. 

"And what are you going to do now Aurora?" she asked Catalina pleasantly, as if discussing the weather, "no home, no money, no family…"

"I have family," she protested feebly, thinking back to the Irish people she had spent the last few weeks of the summer with. 

"A ghastly set of people," brushed off the woman, and a small part of Catalina agreed with him, "never liked them since the moment I clapped eyes on them. Well, I soon put a stop to that. I see you've met them?"

"Yes, we've met," Catalina said, feeling split loyalties now, she wanted to protect the Cotard's, if only because it would anger him.

"I can see they made as good an impression on you as they did me," her father laughed with a gleam in his eye. The woman leant forward and ruffled her hair, "We are not so different, you and I."

She flinched out from under the woman touch terribly, it was like the being in St Mungo's all over again, and hating the way everyone wanted to touch her all the time, how they reminded her.

"They do not understand _who _you are, _what_ you are - what you _could have been_."

Catalina wanted desperately to correct him, but a lifetime's worth of being around this person had told her that it would do no good, that he would win. He always won.

"Well, you are in a sticky spot aren't you?" she laughed, as if this was all great fun, "the penniless heiress of the most powerful family in the country. You have your mothers box I presume?"

The last part of her speech threw Catalina's off guard slightly. She had thought they were talking about her, but apparently he was back on the main topic of conversation.

"Y…yes," she whispered, voice trembling.

"Stand up straight and look me in the eye," she barked suddenly, "excellent. Now there will be a funeral?"

"Yes," she said, trying once again to free herself from Harry's grip.

"When?" he demanded, "where?"

"I…I don't know."

"Child! Do not _lie _to me," he said in a tight voice, trying to appear calm.

"I don't!" she pleaded desperately, "Dumbledore is sorting it out, I don't even know who's coming…"

"You're lying," said the woman, grasping hold of her chin again and leaning close towards her, "Why do you lie to your dear father? You have no allegiance to that busy old fool, to his little army of mudbloods and muggle-lovers."

Catalina didn't say anything, she felt too scared to now. He would kill her for not answering to him and as soon as she thought that she began to feel the tears well up. They spilled down her cheek and her fathers eyes blazed with anger. Her fingers were cutting into her chin, she could feel the sharp nails drawing blood and she grasped Harry's hand tighter.

After a few moments he let go of her chin and stood up tall. Catalina blinked slowly, she had been expecting that to be her last few moments, and she was suddenly granted more time.

"But perhaps," said the woman shrewdly, "you owe your allegiance to someone _else_ now."

Catalina flinched and the woman began to tsk and stepped sideways to square up to Harry. She was casting a disgusted eye over him and Catalina felt even more terrified or him than she did for herself.

"Did I not explain to you in explicate enough detail what would happen if you were to continue fraternising with this worthless waste of space?" 

"Y…y…yes," she trembled, feeling sick with fear now.

"And still you persist," she commented thoughtfully, before giving Catalina a sly smile, "at least this solves your problem of having nowhere to live, no family and no money all in one go, is that not right child? From all accounts Mr Potter here has got a bank vault big enough to support himself into the next hundred years, how very clever of you child."

Catalina wanted to protest, but she was too scared.

"A Firelight always lands on their feet, as your grandfather used to say."

Catalina felt sick at his words. He was suggesting that she was with Harry because she needed the money? Because she was destitute? He really believed it as well, he wasn't just baiting her…

"I'm not a Firelight," she blurted out suddenly.

The woman cast a furious eyes over her and whispered through gritted teeth, "What?"

"I am not a Firelight," she repeated in a trembling, but louder, voice.

The woman smacked her hard across the face and Catalina let out a cry of pain, keeping to her feet but smarting horribly. 

"Then what are you?" raged the woman, shaking her by the arm again, "What? A _Cotard_? A Dumbledore? Granger, Weasley, Black…A _Potter_?"

Catalina didn't know what to say, she didn't think there was anything she could say to a question like that, but she grasped Harry tighter and moved towards him slightly. She may not be any of those people, but she could still defend them.

The woman was looking over Harry again now, and suddenly raised her wand against him. Catalina rushed in front of him, thus putting herself centimetres away from her father.

"Move out of the way child!" she roared, "no harm can come to him whilst in the Timescape, surely even _you _know that."

She didn't know that, but didn't give him the satisfaction of letting him know he was right. She didn't move however, backing up against Harry and staring defiantly into the cold, black eyes of the woman.

"Child, do not make me hurt you," he growled warningly as she stayed her ground, "you know I can, and will."

"No," she whispered, the terror building up inside her as she openly defied her father, "please don't hurt him…"

Quick as a flash she reached out and grabbed hold of Catalina's upper arm, large hands squeezing it painfully as she whimpered in terror.

"Why is it that you never do as you are told?" demanded the woman, hissing quickly in obvious anger, "Why is it that you must constantly disobey orders? You know, you put me in an awfully tight spot back there in May - Lord Voldemort does not take disloyalty lightly."

"He never had my loyalty," she gasped, eyes brimming with tears at the pain in her arm.

"I worked my damned near hardest for you," she began to shout, shaking her by the arm with every word until her head began to pound, "I built you up this protection and this is how you repay me! By throwing it all back in my face for some _half_-_blood, _muggle-raised, meddling fool!"

"What protection?" asked Catalina in a terrified yet defiant voice, "you controlled me! You _branded _me, for what? My own protection?"

The woman looked outraged beyond belief at Catalina's insubordination, and her face had contorted into a terrible expression by the time she threw Catalina aside. Again she was left dangling above the ground, hanging by Harry's hand as she climbed shakily to her feet.

"It is better to be on the right hand side of the Devil, than. In. His. Path!" ranted the woman, looking wild, "As long as you were with us, you were immune! Do you understand that? Things have been put in motion Aurora, plans that involve you, and your _protector_ here. Plans that will have you wishing that you hadn't gone against us that night in May."

"I was never with you!" screeched Catalina.

Her last blow knocked her off her feet again, and she felt a stabbing pain in her lip and the iron tangy taste of blood. This time however, she hadn't the energy or the ability to get to her feet again. She dangled down to the floor feeling dazed and confused, her head swimming with the noise of the silence, the force of the blows and the terror that was coursing through her veins. 

"Get up," ordered the woman, standing above Catalina.

She made no move, trying to focus her eyes against the whirling colours of light and occasional black patches unsuccessfully. She fancied she could feel a loose tooth developing and vaguely prodded it with her tongue as the face woman in front of her contorted into a mask of outrage once again. 

"Get up!" she roared, grasping hold of her arm again and pulling her to her feet.

She stood swaying in an almost drunken way as the woman paced in front of her. Catalina gave up trying to struggle free of Harry's grip and instead leant against him heavily, squeezing his hand tightly, as if he would understand what was happening. She wanted him to know that the last thing she was probably going to think about was him.

"What do you want with us?" asked Catalina thickly, feeling worse than she should have done for her knocks.

"I have not come here to answer your questions," she said in a hauty voice, pacing in front of the pair with a troubled air.

Slowly Catalina got a grip on her wand, she knew a powerful enough stunning charm which would knock the woman out - but what would that do to the Timescape? What would happen to the woman and her father? Would she manage to knock him out as well, or succeed in only capturing his vessel? She decided to forget about these questions, she knew she had very little chances to catch him off guard and her muddled thoughts could not process what would happen if she wasn't to succeed.

Drawing her wand out in front of her as the woman turned towards Harry again, she took a deep breath.

"_Impedimentia!"_ she cried at the same time the woman ducked suddenly.

The next few seconds were a complete confusion, the spell zoomed off somewhere harmlessly and Catalina was caught up in the whirl of robes and limbs. All she was aware of a few seconds later was that she was on the floor again, her head splitting with pain and her vision dimmed dramatically.

"Child, that is not wise," said the woman from somewhere above her through gritted teeth, "not wise at all."

Catalina gave a choked sob, it hurt too much now and she was too weary to climb to her feet.

"Get up," she commanded, her black robes swishing in and out of Catalina's vision.

"No," she said thickly, well aware this wouldn't help her situation, but she was too terrified to move now.

"Get up!" she roared again, before drawing out a long wand, "_Imperio_."

Catalina felt a wonderful calm settle over her. All the pain had gone now, all the terrified thoughts, everything. She had no recollection of what had made her so upset.

"Get up child," came a soft voice.

Her knees bent to work at the sound of the kind voice but as she began to rise to her feet she began to become aware of a niggling voice in her head. Why are you taking orders from them, it asked her petulantly, pointless really, you're much comfier down here. She was still sat in an awkward crouch, half-up and half-down as she examined these thoughts in more detail, rising slowly.

"Come on child, to your feet now. I've got some serious questions to ask you now," the voice said, arriving her mind with no need to pass via the ears, "what are you and Dumbledore's army up to my sweet? Where have all the Auror's gone? This place is looking awful empty without half the Ministry around, is it the Order again precious?"

Now she came to think of it, that voice didn't sound that comforting. It sounded like it was prying, poking in her business. She was still crouched down, becoming increasingly aware of the absurdity of what the person was asking.

"Come child, you can tell your father these things, can't you?" asked the voice, a little more harshly now.

The tone of the words was the audio equivalent to a sudden bright light in your eyes after sleep. It snapped and twanged around her head as a horrid, unnatural thing.

"Catalina," snapped the voice.

"No," she blurted out, becoming increasingly aware of a dull throbbing in her head and limbs.

"Don't resist me girl, tell me."

"No!" she said again in a stronger voice, feel the panic and fear coming back to her again.

"_Tell me!_"

"NO!" she yelled, the curse lifted and everything flooding back to her in an instant.

The tall woman stood above her, staring down at Catalina with the deepest look of disappointment and fury etched over every centimetre of her dark features. It was hard to tell just how infuriated Charles Firelight was, he seemed to be unable to do anything, perhaps from the shock of her standing up to him.

"You shouldn't have taught me that one," she muttered thickly, heavy eyes watching the floor in front of her dazedly.

"One day you're going to pay for this insubordination Aurora," she threatened, the words chilling Catalina to the very bones.

Around her the world seemed to shimmer white suddenly, as if there was a disturbance in the air. The woman looked around her and gave an irritated sigh Catalina recognised all too well in its familiarity.

"I have not got much time," she said curtly, motioning to the flickering white around her, "but know this…"

She walked up to Catalina and grasped her chin in her hands, holding it close to her face so that she was gazing blearily into the eyes of Charles Firelight.

"Lord Voldemort and I cannot keep him contained forever. He will escape. And when he does it will be you he comes after, and you do not deserve the help of your former brethren any more. You have bought this upon yourself, and you will have to deal with him yourself. It has already begun."

Catalina couldn't stop the horrified, petrified tears from coursing down her cheeks at this, a sight which gave her father no end of satisfaction. She could see the glimmer of pleasure in his eyes as she recalled the red letters with a shudder.

"Our plans do not _require_ you," the woman told her, "Potter is all we need. Maybe Lord Voldemort will see fit to release Him to find you anyway, teach you a little lesson about insubordination."

Catalina gave a horrified, choked sob as she watched the woman, her own _father_, flesh and blood, take pleasure in speaking those words to her, and what they meant not only for her, but for Harry.

"See if you can tell your precious Harry about that one," he sneered, walking backwards.

The air shimmered brighter this time and the woman let go of her chin with a violent thrust, already walking backwards with her wand outstretched. Catalina tried to support herself on her own two legs as she flinched, expecting the final curse to come at any moment, but the further away the woman got, the more her hopes rose.

Sudden wild thoughts of stunning the woman entered her mind once again, but she was loath to bring any more pain upon herself, so she let them walk free. The world was flickering slightly and she was already turning to Harry when the curse was thrown, hitting her like a ton of bricks as she was knocked off her feet in a flash of blue light. 

This time she hit the floor as Harry let go of her hand in surprise at the sudden surge of power he felt travel into his arm.

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AN/ Ooh, sorry about the sudden cliffe! Betcha didn't see that one coming, _at _all huh? Lols. Once again, this writers begs complete forgiveness, grovelling like a house elf for being tardy! I'm surprised anyone still reads this rubbish the amount of time I take to post! I promise to be quicker. Next post will be Wednesday 7th April (2004!).

So - about this chapter - what says you to the reappearance of Charles Firelight, and what he had to say? Anyone spot the plot?

HOPE YOU LIKED?

Massive thank you's to;

Aryanna - Thanks for reminding me to update! I'd forgotten I hadn't and your review reminded me! Glad you liked it all so far! What do you think of latest revelations?

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Athenakitty - You asked what happened to Catalina's stuff? Did you mean things that would have been in the memory box? If that is then you'll just have to wait! Who put the Imperio on Catalina? Did you mean at the end of "Firelight's Heir"? In that case it was her father and Voldemort (together). And as to the Dursley's, they died in chapter one of my last story!

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Dementorchic - Your not a bad reviewer! I know I've done well if you review! (at last I hope I've done well, lols). I always think it's a lot easier to imagine Catalina throwing stuff than being normal too! Glad you liked!

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Greatestofthefour - I'm glad you enjoyed the previous scenes of the 'deathbed' visit. They were pretty hard to write! But I know what your saying - time to lighten up a bit (I know after this chapter just gone up that may be a little it of a contradiction in terms - but things WILL get better). Definitely some 'under the influence' scenes waiting in Poland!

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JoshWhitt - Am amazed at your perseverance at reading all the way through the first book of this and now this one! Sorry you didn't like the fighting scenes, sometimes it's a little necessary. Do you have any suggestions for further developments?

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Nasser Himura - First reviewer of Chapter 26! Glad you enjoyed, and am sorry you had to wait so long! Never fear, them getting together happens * soon *, but I wanted to make it more realistic in terms of what they've been going through, so it's not instantaneous!

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Nyermen - Heya Peter - how's India then, better than Guildford I'm sure! Sorry you've had to wait so long for the update, I'm sure your probably back home now cursing me for reminding you of your time away! Hope you enjoyed the new chapter and the reappearance of Charles Firelight!

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PotterManiac - I'm glad you Liked. The. Story! I know it s taking them a while to get to Poland, and a few more chapters yet - but trust me, there's some stuff to cover before then! And am sorry to say the 'kiss' won't come until then - but that doesn't mean there's no action!

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Rich - I'm glad you liked Catalina (even if she is a bit mardy!) I know how you feel, she'll cheer up soon, she'll have a reason too! (apart from her dad that is). And as to the red letters - well that's the main subplot to the story, so I can't go telling you just yet - mayhaps you'll work it out for yourself? Btw, how's uni going?

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Rini Sayian-jin - Bit of a roller coaster of emotions huh? One moment laughing, the next crying! And I see what you mean, many people have commented on my appalling sense of English grammar! I can't help it - haven't done English for about 4 years and I was bad then! But am working to rectify that!

Teaser Trailer: 

"No, I honestly don't anything," she whispered, before raising her disbelieving eyes to Harry's and holding out the parchment, "but do you know what this means? What having that on her _back _means?"

"No, what?" he demanded quickly, looking frightened at what she was about to say.

"Harry," she said faintly, "this is _deliberate_…she couldn't have put it there, and you don't fall and get this kind of, of, _ornate artwork_…it's deliberate…"


	28. High Fidelity

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AN/ This chapter is dedicated to TALIX who has brilliantly reviewed BOTH of my stories after what must have been a marathon session of reading!

~*~*~ Chapter Twenty Seven ~*~*~

High Fidelity

Hagrid bent down to scoop up the pale girl, looking unusually serious and quiet, hefting her in one easy motion and cradling her to him as he set of through the crowd of spectators. The whole market seemed to have stopped what they were doing to witness the scene, of the infamous Prisoner of Azkaban being hauled away by a half giant as her three friends swarmed around the two figures, yelling and looking furious.

Well, more _one_ of them was doing the yelling, the other two seemed to be holding him back - trying to stop him from attacking the crowd.

"WHO DID IT?" he roared, brandishing his wand at the shocked crowd, "OWN UP!"

"Harry, come on," cried Hermione, dragging the wand out of his hand in a sudden wrench, "this isn't going to help!"

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER!" he continued to rant, addressing the crowd in general, "WHAT'S WRONG WITH HER?"

No one replied and the crowd was hastily shuffling out of the furious finger pointing of the new magus, who seemed to be trying to pick out a target, any target.

"We need to get her to Madam Pomfrey," Ron told him seriously, "stop wasting time."

Harry seemed to take notice of this more than Hermione's pleads and finally dropped his arm and running over to Hagrid without a word. Ron and Hermione shared a worried look before catching up with Hagrid's massive form, who was taking large strides towards the castle, causing the others the run by his side just catch up. Harry was questioning him endlessly, demanding to know what was wrong, begging Hagrid to do something now, complaining about the time it was taking and asking if he could do anything.

"Harry, I don't know what's wrong," said Hagrid finally in a tight voice, "stop yeh pestering and we'll get there quicker."

After that he shut up and they continued their hasty procession to the castle. Hermione was already trying to formulate a theory on what had happened - to her eyes it looked as if Catalina had been beaten up, not cursed, but Harry had apparently been with her the whole time. As they crossed the school lawns they were all surprised to see Dumbledore sweeping down the lawns towards them, followed by Professor McGonagall and Flitwick. 

"She's coming 'round," Hagrid proclaimed suddenly, and Harry forgot about the Professors coming their way.

Hagrid placed her down on the frosty grass and Harry pushed him aside as he knelt down in front of her.

"Catalina?" he asked softly, shaking her slightly, "Catalina, can you hear me?"

The girl gave a groan and shook her head slowly before pulling her eyelids open. In the few seconds of entering consciousness she became panicked and disorientated, Harry could feel her fear choking him. She waved her hand but he grabbed it before she could fly spells at everyone, suddenly noticing another person kneeling on the snow across from him. He looked up into the concerned blue eyes of Professor Dumbledore, trying somehow to plead for him to do something.

He looked back down at Catalina, who winced and began to blink furiously, before suddenly sitting bolt upright, looking terrified.

"Tumsc…tumsca…tiy…tiy," she kept saying thickly, shaking her head from side to side, as if to clear out her head.

"What are you trying to say?" asked Harry, leaning down and trying to hold eye contact with her wandering gaze, "Catalina?"

"Harry," she gasped coherently, eyes lighting up in recognition, "Timescape!"

"What?" he asked in confusion, thinking she was still speaking in tongues, "Time scape?"

"Timescape," repeated Dumbledore, looking over to the other two professor's as if this confirmed their worst fears, "Who was it Catalina, who's Timescape?"

She blinked rapidly, wincing as if in some pain and Harry wasn't sure if she'd heard him right, Harry was pretty sure he hadn't. He was confused as everyone except him and Ron seemed to understand what was happening.

"Firelight's," she said in a choked voice, "It was Charles Firelight's. He's here, we've got to get away, please, he's _here_."

"Whoa, whoa, wait a second," said Harry in a panicked voice, "what are you talking about? What's she saying?"

"All questions will be answered later, it is not safe to stay out here exposed Albus," said Professor McGonagall sternly, though Harry could detect a quaver of fear in her voice, "lets get her out of the cold and into a hospital bed."

"You're right, Hagrid pick up Miss Firelight and bring her to the hospital wing," commanded Dumbledore, rising to his feet.

"I can walk," declared Catalina defiantly, "I'm ok, I just have a little headache -"

She climbed unsteadily to her feet, but as she did so she gave a mighty sway and her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she pitched forward, legs buckling underneath her. Harry darted forward to catch her with a panicked yell but Hagrid got there first and there was a few seconds of general confusion and shouts before Dumbledore managed to restore order and they were sent up to the castle. 

Catalina seemed to be out for the count again and the three watched in anxious silence as they trooped into the Hospital Wing and we're led over to an empty bed, where she was laid down.

"Now everyone out, I need to examine her," said Madam Pomfrey, flapping every one with her arms, "That includes you, Mr Potter."

Harry, who had remained at the foot of her bed gave her a startled look and was practically dragged around the tall curtains by Ron and Hermione who stood on the other side, staring at it blankly for a few moments.

"What's a Time scape?" demanded Harry, rounding on Hermione suddenly, who was looking pale faced and worried looking.

"Sssh, not here," she hissed back to him.

"But if she said Firelight is here that means -" began Harry again regardless.

"Don't talk about it here!" Hermione rebuked him again, "we don't know who might be listening."

"Hermione in case you haven't noticed Catalina is lying in there _unconscious_ because of something that bastard did, this isn't the time to be worrying about being secretive!" he snapped angrily.

"Harry, get a grip!" Hermione shot back, "she is going to be fine, don't loose your head and risk exposing everything because you're too hot-headed to see sense!"

"I'm not being hot-headed!" he told her incredulously, "I think I've got every reason to be worried when she's been in some kind of weird magical thing with her father, a _Death Eater _by the way, that's left her looking like she's been in a bar-room brawl!"

"Mr Potter," came a shocked voice, "could you please keep your noise down _inside _the Hospital Wing and kindly leave us alone, all of you! Go on, shoo!"

Hermione shot him a disgusted look for getting them thrown out and they silently walked out of the wing and hung around the door. Last lesson was still in full swing and the three Professors' that had been escorting them had disappeared, probably up to Dumbledore's office Harry supposed.

"Hermione, what _is _a Tim -" he began again, this time in a more pleading voice.

"Harry," she growled warningly, "sit down and shut up."

Harry gave her an angry glare before throwing himself down onto the floor of the corridor, making it very clear to them both that he was in a mood with them. However a few minutes of this and he'd given up on the anger and had taken to staring ahead of himself blankly, biting his nails.

That was never a good sign.

*

Ten minutes later and Catalina was battling away with the Matron's various attempts at prodding her with various charms and muttering things under her breath.

"I'm _fine_," she said irritably, "I need to see Professor Dumbledore!"

"Are you a Healer? No, you're not. So will you kindly let me do my job and _sit _still," said Pomfrey in a brusque manner.

There was another few seconds of fighting in which Catalina tried to get out of bed, while the Matron tried to forcibly restrain her and push her back down. She called the matron several choice names, all in other languages, who replied by telling her to sit still in an increasingly louder voice. It was a battle of wills and strength and in the end Pomfrey won as Catalina was too tired and weary to struggle any further, although she wouldn't admit that. 

"Now," said Madam Pomfrey, nostrils flaring and holding Catalina's wrists tightly, "Will you please just sit still?"

"No," said Catalina wearily, "this is more important - I promise I'll come back after I speak to Dumbledore, it's _really_ important!"

"Whatever you have to say can wait until we heal these cuts and bruises and stop these shakes of yours," bustled the Matron, already casting various spells over the irritable Catalina.

She look down at her hands in surprise to see them trembling terribly, as if she had been exposed to a sudden cold and was freezing. In fact she felt pretty cold, her hands were a horrible white colour she didn't think was even her usual pallor. In fact, she noted with a strangely disconnected feeling, she was trembling all over and was feeling quite battered indeed.

"There, that wasn't hard was it," asked the Matron approvingly when Catalina had finally shut up, "now, I'm just going to get some Quick Seal Potion for those cuts on your face, I'll be back in a moment."

Catalina nodded absentmindedly, obviously a million miles away and the Matron walked off to her office, safe in the knowledge her patient was now subdued enough and obviously in shock.

The moment she went around the corner, Catalina lost her look of faraway dazedness and threw off the covers, tottering across the floor as her head throbbed and grasping the handle. She pulled back the door and broke into a sprint, ignoring the bustle of students around her, some shouting her name oddly.

She kept looking left and right, out of the windows an all around her, so convinced was she that Charles Firelight would turn up again. Feeling slightly ashamed, but overwhelmingly terrified she sped up and reached the gargoyle to Dumbledore's office, out of breath and with a desperately spinning head.

Someone grabbed hold of her arm and she gave a horrified scream, twisting out of the grip and spinning to face her attacker.

"Its only me," cried Harry, holding his hands up as if he were being threatened, "Are you ok? What are you doing out of the Hospital Wing?"

"Harry!" she gasped, before turning back to the gargoyle, trying to calm her furiously pounding heart - she had been sure she'd known who it was, "I need to see Dumbledore!"

"You're ill! You need to get back to the hospital wing," he said as Hermione and Ron caught up, "You're still bleeding!"

"No," she said, desperately hammering on the stone, "I need to see him!"

"There's plenty of time for that later," said Hermione gently, "come on Catalina, back to the Hospital -"

"No!" she cried in an anguished voice bordering on hysterical, "there's not! I didn't know he was going to be there! I didn't tell him we had the day off, I _swear_. I honestly never said anything, I haven't spoken to him - you know I wouldn't speak to him! You've got to tell them, they'll expel me! They'll think I did it -"

"Catalina!" cut in Ron in a shocked voice, "no one thinks you did ok?"

"They won't believe me," she said, obviously babbling, as she pounded the gargoyle, "you know they won't. You know what they'll say - what they always say! I can't go through -"

"Stop it," commanded Harry suddenly, having a brief scuffle as he tried to pull her hands away from the rough stonework she had been beating her fists on for the past minute, "you're going to hurt yourself! Stop it, _Catalina_, come on, _stop it_."

"STOP!" shouted Hermione suddenly as Catalina and Harry still scrapped.

They both froze, the haunting gene of every school child that programmed into the sounds of an angry authoritative voice.

"You're illCatalina, you're not thinking straight," she explained in the calm voice of a councillor now, "you've had a nasty shock and by the looks of it some heavy blows so you need to sit down and get your rest."

"She's right Catalina, you'll feel better in the morning," added Ron supportively.

"_No_," she said, pulling her hands out of Harry's grip but not attacking the gargoyle again, "By the time I'm rested up he'll have got away! Dumbledore needs to hear this!"

"They know what your father looks like," Hermione reminded her, "and they know roughly where he is, they can do this on their own."

"It wasn't him in the flesh!" Catalina cried, "he was using someone else, possessing them and if we don't find her soon he's going to kill her and it'll be all my fault!"

Harry, Ron and Hermione were silent for a moment, obviously sharing one of their looks, before Harry gave a sigh a pulled her gently aside.

"Peppermint Creams," he told the gargoyle, which sprang aside.

She gave a few blinks as she tried to clear her head that was pounding terribly before taking the stairs first. As she climbed the stairs she began to feel dizzy and stumbled slightly. She was eternally grateful when she felt Harry's hand on her back, steadying her as she went, preventing her from falling down the spiral staircase. 

She reached the door and knocked it with one of her trembling hands, which she quickly hid from everyone's view as the door was opened and the three Professors that had found them blinked back at them in surprise. For the next few moments there was a lot of loud conversation, all with exactly the same remarks as had been discussed down by the gargoyle, a fact which was not helped by the appearance of Madam Pomfrey, looking evil.

"Silence!" commanded Dumbledore, raising his hands, "that's better. Now Catalina are you feeling well enough to be here?"

"Yes," she said defiantly.

"Then Poppy, I'm afraid this cannot wait. I shall send her down as soon as possible," he assured.

Madam Pomfrey hissed and spat her resentment towards Dumbledore's decision and made not a quiet departure, her words of anger still ringing in their ears.

"Now Catalina," said Dumbledore when the door had been closed and sealed with a secrecy charm, "what is so important that it cannot wait a few hours?"

"Don't bother looking for him, he's far away by now," she started up instantly, swaying slightly as she stood and waving her finger about.

"We understand this, we usefully have access to the Magical Tracker System used by the Misuse of Magic office and he is not registering," supplied Dumbledore helpfully.

"He wouldn't anyway," snapped Catalina, obviously annoyed at the interruption, "it doesn't track Magus's who do not possess a wand! And anyway everyone knows there's loads of charms you can do to make yourself untraceable!"

Harry could tell Dumbledore was shocked to hear this news, but hid it well, "Well, in that case the MTS is of no use to us then."

"No, It's not. But you shouldn't be looking for him! He wasn't there - he was controlling someone else!" 

"With the Imperious Curse?" asked Professor Flitwick.

"No, not that, he was _possessing_ someone," she said desperately, "you know, using their voice but directing their speech, seeing through their eyes, _possessing _her."

"Indeed?" asked Dumbledore curiously, leaning forward in his chair with interest, "who?"

"I didn't recognise her, but she was about six foot three, a black woman, about 25/30 years old. She had pure white hair, but it wasn't grey, she had a small scar on her neck and her wand was made of -"

"Redwood," finished Professor McGonagall with a grimace, "It's Janita Jacobs."

There was a flurry of activity as messages were interchanged through the fire, and owls were written and hurried, low conversations were interchanged between the three staff, seemingly forgetting the other four were still standing there.

Catalina still stood on her feet, swaying even more now, her head was hurting terribly and she still had the shivers - her hands were quaking like nobodies business. Several Order members came and went in a short space of time and Catalina absentmindedly brushed her hair from off her face, shocked to see that when she withdrew her hand it was stained with blood. Before she could subconsciously examine her injuries further, Professor McGonagall and Flitwick left the room and Dumbledore motioned for them to sit down.

She gratefully fell into her chair and heard the others follow suit.

"Now Catalina, I want you to tell me exactly what happened, and everything your father said," Dumbledore told her in a comforting voice, "its vitally important you leave _nothing _out."

"Can't this wait?" cut in Harry, eyes focussed on the small trickle of blood coming from under her hairline worriedly.

"I'm afraid it cannot Harry," said Dumbledore gently, "you know I would not ask unless we had no other option."

Harry sat back in his chair without saying anything, and Catalina opened her eyes again, seemingly having missed out the last bit of the conversation.

"Tea perhaps would help here?" said Dumbledore, summoning a tray of teacups and biscuits instantly.

Harry leant forward and picked a cup and saucer up for Catalina, handing it her gently. He was worried about how unfocussed her eyes were as she took the cup off him. There was a sudden jarring noise in the air and everyone stared at the source. Catalina's hands were trembling so much that the cup she was holding onto the saucer was shaking and clattering noisily. 

"I'm not actually thirsty," she said, thrusting it back into Harry's hands and slopping the boiling liquid on her hands in the process, though she didn't seem to notice.

Ron and Hermione shared a worried look and Dumbledore acted as if nothing had happened.

"Well then, down to business…" he said, picking up a ginger snap, "Catalina, what happened?"

"Well, I can't really remember much of what he was saying," she began in a confused voice, "but we were arguing I remember, for a while, about - now what was it? Something about…well the Scape flickered and he had to go…"

Dumbledore studied her as she cast around her confused thoughts, trying to pinpoint the words that had been said, but she was genuinely puzzled. What _had _they been talking about? The last curse must have addled her brains or something because she couldn't for the life of her remember…

"Think hard," coaxed Dumbledore.

"I don't know," she said frustratingly, "he wanted to ask me something…about my mother? Does that sound right? No…maybe not…And there was something about me being…a Dumbledore…No…"

She lapsed into silence and everyone studied her intently. She seemed to have nothing more to say and Harry frowned deeply at her, taking in the cuts and bruises, including what looked like nail marks around her chin that were turning yellow and green as they bruised. He cast a worried glance at Dumbledore, who was also studying her.

"Sorry to butt in," said Ron suddenly, "but what _is _a Timescape, I don't understand what's happened?"

"Timescaping is the ability possessed by powerful Magus's and Sorcerers to alter the flow of time. What happened to day I assume, was that Charles Firelight used this ability to speak to Catalina."

"He stopped time?" asked Harry incredulously as Ron gaped alongside him.

"No, that's impossible, no one can stop time. But they can bend time. Firelight pulled himself and Catalina out of normal time and into their 'own time' as you might call it. It would give the appearance that they were the only one's moving," explained Dumbledore as Hermione nodded along, obviously already knowing and understanding this.

"But he had to be close by," cut in Hermione timidly, "didn't he? He can't do that sort of magic from a distance?"

"Oh no, he was here alright," said Dumbledore thoughtfully, causing Catalina's tremors to increase, "maybe hiding somewhere in Hogsmeade."

"Then we can still capture him!" cut in Harry excitedly, "couldn't we?"

"He's gone," said Catalina in a faraway voice, "he's walked free again for the second time when I could have stopped him…"

"Let us put aside thoughts of capture for a moment. The Order are out looking for Janita now, but it is absolutely _imperative_ that we know what your father wanted," pressed Dumbledore, trying to catch Catalina's gaze, "and what he said _exactly_."

"I can't remember," she told him frustratingly, "its like there's this huge block and all the words are just garbled, there's no sense to them."

"That's because of the temporal displacement caused by the fluctuations in time," offered Hermione in a clear voice before noticing everyone's expression and adding, "isn't it?"

"Er…in English now?" asked Ron, looking even more confused than Harry.

"The brain cannot cope with being in two time frames, or the memory of one," Dumbledore said in disappointment, leaning back in his chair reflectively, "It's like a massive overdose of Time Lag in international portkeys orJet Lag that muggles get."

"Oh…" said Ron slowly, before turning to Hermione looking impressed, "how'd you know that then?"

"You don't use a Time Turner for a year and not pick up a few things on the perils of time travelling," said Hermione bashfully, blushing under the headmasters proud grin.

"Hang on," said Harry, backtracking the others, "you're saying you can remember the scenes, but not the words?"

Catalina nodded at him and he gave a thoughtful nod and turned to Dumbledore slowly.

"Well then, wouldn't the Pensieve work?"

Dumbledore nodded, Hermione looked intrigued, Ron was looking slightly lost, but Catalina merely stared at him.

"You have a Pensieve?" she asked Harry.

"No, Professor Dumbledore does," he said, noting with alarm her lids were looking slightly heavy now and she was sounding a bit dull-witted.

"We could give anything a try," said Dumbledore approvingly, already heading to his cabinet and pulling the rough stone bowl out.

He placed it on the desk in front of them and Dumbledore leaned up against it.

"Now I need a few tester memories first, to acclimatise your thoughts to the bowl," said Dumbledore, brandishing a wand, "I want you to think about a conversation you've had today."

Catalina nodded heavily and cast around for a suitable discussion she wouldn't mind the whole room hearing. She still hadn't thought of one when Dumbledore asked her kindly if she was ready and in her panic she told him she was. He pointed his wand against her head and she desperately recalled walking to Hogsmeade. She felt a tingling sensation around where the wand was placed and a funny slight dizziness as he began to draw it away, tipping the silvery strand into the pool of metallic water glittering in the stone bowl.

Dumbledore instructed her to hold the sides and swish it around, which she did, feeling somewhat pleased when an image of Harry appeared sprawled across the floor.

"Yeah," came his voice, sounding like it was coming from a long way away as a giant hand came into view, "some of us have better things to do than being sat in a frozen puddle being _mocked_."

"Would I mock you?" she recognised her own voice asking innocently.

"Er, let me think about that….yes!" said Harry, being wrenched into the air by Hagrid.

The image faded and she looked up, hoping this was a good sign. Dumbledore smiled encouragingly and she gave a sigh of relief.

"And again," instructed Dumbledore, "a memory from yesterday."

She cast her mind back desperately - what had happened yesterday? She had come back from St Mungo's, talked to Dumbledore all day, spoken to Harry before going to bed in the early hours. Again before she was ready, he began and unsurprisingly they were all a little disappointed by the haze like mist that appeared when he put the memory in.

"You need to concentrate," he said kindly.

"I know, I'm sorry, but I can't remember anything about yesterday I feel like sharing," she said, avoiding his gaze.

She guessed Harry probably knew why she didn't want to broadcast any of her memories of yesterday to them all, most of them were personal between her and him she didn't want everyone to see. 

"Just one more, a distant memory," he asked, though Catalina wasn't sure why.

She searched desperately for one as her head reeled and finally settled on something nice and simple. Again Dumbledore drew out the memory and placed it into the bowl as she closed her eyes wearily, she was beginning to feel tired now…

Harry however leaned forward and gazed into the swirling depths as a figure rose up and revolved slowly, an image he'd seen replicated a long time ago now.

It was of a young boy of perhaps six or seven, dressed in unfamiliar Quidditch robes with a junior broom in one hand. He was chatting away in an excited voice, grinning widely, but what he was talking about Harry had no idea, it was in a very foreign language indeed. However, Harry didn't need to be able to speak Afrikaans to know who this person was, it was quite obvious just by looking at him, with his coal black eyes and hair with something familiar lingering around the grin.

It was her baby brother.

Ron and Hermione were frowning at each other and Dumbledore was gazing intently at the figure with a look of deep thoughtfulness and concentration. He looked over to Catalina who was staring blankly at the figure who had stopped talking by this time and disappeared into the mist again. Harry wondered why Catalina had chosen that memory, she had always tried to keep the existence of her brother a secret, yet now she was broadcasting it loud and clear.

"Ok, let's just go for the big one now," said Dumbledore, after a searching look and an understanding smile, "concentrate deeply on what happened a few moments before the Timescape started."

She screwed her eyes up in concentration, and Dumbledore gave her a long time to prepare. She had her face scrunched up when she finally gave a nod, and Dumbledore drew out the memory, placing it with the others. It floated into view and after a moments, they all climbed in, landing in various places around the Harry and Catalina who were walking through the market hand in hand, as well as standing next to each other looking at their twins. 

This time they all noticed the sudden pulse through the air and just after, Harry-memory had raised his hand to his eyes.

"Can you feel…something…"

Time slowed to a standstill and there was the sound of approaching footsteps…

*

It was six hours later and nightfall had fallen on Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry Potter was currently making his way through the empty corridors of the school alone, under the cover of his invisibility cloak. The Marauder's Map was pressed against his nose as he squinted through the dark at the tiny labelled dots.

Professor Dumbledore was currently in his office, so were a suspiciously large number of people for midnight. The news that Firelight had noticed the departures from the ministry and wanted to know where a lot of people had gone had sent ripples of panic throughout the Order.

Peeves, Filch and Mrs Norris were all together in the sixth floor tapestry room, some distance away from him and Harry only had to pass one teacher on the way to the Hospital Wing who was roaming the corridors in search of the kitchen most likely.

When he reached the Hospital Wing entrance, he wiped the map clean and folded it away, pushing the door open as soundlessly as possible and slipping in. The room was practically empty of patients and he moved soundlessly over to Catalina's bed, recognising her outline almost instantly.

He pulled up a chair and sat down, leaning his elbows onto her bedclothes and places his chin in his hands. She had fainted whilst inside her own memory somewhere towards the end Harry had hoped and they had all been thrown out instantly. When they had bought her to the Hospital Wing Madam Pomfrey had been furious and had disallowed any visitors.

Harry stared down at her form, once again feeling sick. Most of the cuts and bruises were gone now and she looked almost fine, but Harry couldn't rid himself of the images of her Pensieve memory. He'd wished he hadn't seen in a way, because his own guesses couldn't have been any worse than the truth if he'd tried. 

Apart from the teasing, the taunting and the obvious long running manner with which he dealt with her, it was the violence that had sickened him the most. How could he have done those things, to his own daughter? Harry had counted four maybe five times he'd punched her in the face, he'd grabbed her by the arm repeatedly, shook her, dug his nails into her chin on two occasions, used the Imperious curse on her…

Catalina had once told him she had a very strict upbringing with her father and last year Hermione had hinted to him that she got the impression her father used a little more force than necessary. Harry hadn't believed her then, at the time he was still the world famous Auror and Gryffindor, but as he had found out many time during his magical life, Hermione's impressions were usually right. 

He felt sick for her, angry, furious even for her, but most of all appalled that _his_ Catalina had to be put through that. Not only was it so soon after the last meeting with him, it had been only two days previously her mother had died in front of her. And now Harry couldn't sleep because he was worried for her, because he was feeling overwhelmed by the emotions witnessing the family reunion had caused him to feel.

Harry reached out from under the cloak and brushed the mass of hair off her forehead carefully. She didn't make a sound and he continued to brush it away for some time. He recalled the part of the meeting in which Firelight had turned towards the frozen figure of himself, when he said all those things about him, the fact Catalina was with him for his money, that he was 'Half-blood, muggle-raised, worthless waste of space.' Boy he wasn't well liked in the Firelight household.

But as angry as his words made Harry feel, it was overrun by the memory of Catalina stepping in front of him, of her defending him even though he could see in her eyes she thought it would cost her her life. In the darkness he looked at the lightning bolt scar on his hand. He'd got that nearly a year ago, because he'd proved he'd been willing to die for her, and it was the same now. 

This thought proceeded to dwell on something Firelight had said that day, 'who are you then…a Potter?' The words had come as a surprise to Harry, even though he'd known they were coming, for some reason he couldn't stop thinking about this sentence, and how he had said that in Harry, Catalina had found money, a family and somewhere to live in all in one go.

He tried to rid his head of these thoughts, and sat back in his chair, vowing to keep an eye on her not just for tonight, but forever. He never wanted to have to stand by and watch her get hurt like that when he could do nothing. He was there for gods sake, inches away from her, he was preventing her from escaping even!

He felt so useless that he could do nothing to help, then or now, and merely settled for watching her, fighting off sleep and witnessing sunrise at Hogwarts for the first time in a long while. 

*

Catalina groggily re-entered consciousness, fighting it off for as long as possible and dozing fitfully as the bright white light irritated her eyes. She stubbornly kept her eyes closed as she replayed her memory and groaned, it all seemed such a long time ago and a few minutes ago at the same time, so surreal and yet so real. She pulled her eyes open finally when she heard a slight rustle of clothes around her.

Blinking furiously and trying to get used to the light, her eyes focussed in on a tired looking Harry, who was slouched in his chair, watching her. He looked worse than she felt and she cleared her dry throat a few times before attempting to speak.

"How long have you been here?" she croaked out, giving him a half smile of a greeting.

"A while," he said, sitting up and stretching slightly.

"How longs a while?" she asked him, hiding her one arm under a mass of blankets hastily.

"Oh, since about midnight," he replied, after looking down at his watch.

"What?" she asked incredulously, trying to rub the sleep out of her eyes, "you serious?"

He shrugged and stretched in his chair, before shuffling forward and resting his crossed arms on her knees.

"How are you feeling?" he asked somewhat anxiously.

"Fine," was all she said as she winced slightly, trying to move into a seated position.

Harry gave her a sceptical look, for some reason he didn't believe her theatrics, she thought she'd done a pretty good acting job then. She reached across to the side cabinet for a glass of water and suddenly the noise of clattering metal filled the air. She looked quickly at the source of her noise, her bangle was tapping against the counter as her hands were shaking - ah, so that would be what gave her away.

She pretended nothing was amiss and took the water anyway, the glass banging against her teeth in time to her shakes as she took a sip, using both hands in the end to steady it. When she put the glass down, she tried to tuck her hair behind her ears and act normally.

"Here," said Harry eventually with a sigh, taking both of her hands and placing them on the blanket in front of her, folding his own hands over hers, "Just take it easy."

"No one is expecting you to be perfectly normal after yesterday ok?" he told her, "you've had a huge, _massive _shock and you've been pretty ill."

She gave a heavy sigh and nodded, wondering if her father was going to ruin her life all over again, she only had a few days left at Hogwarts and she wanted to enjoy them, as much as _she _could anyway.

"So, now you've seen my father as he normally is, what do you think?" she asked him.

"Do you need to ask?" Harry said, and she could hear the bitterness in his voice, "does he always speak to you like that?"

"Like what?" 

"Like he was. Calling you 'child' all the time, putting you down, and the way he kept telling you to "stand up straight and- "

"'- look me in the eye'," finished Catalina, "yeah."

"Oh," said Harry with a frown and another angry look, "why'd he keep calling you Aurora?"

"Oh it's what he does when he's angry," she said, avoiding his gaze as she stared at her bedspread, "you know how parents usually say your full name, well I guess he figures 'Catalina Aurora Firelight' must be too long."

"Its his mothers name anyway, I guess he likes comparing us " she added a while later, before muttering slightly "the evil bitch that she was."

Madame Pomfrey chose that moment to walk in and thus ensued a long argument about Harry being there without permission. Luckily he'd had many hours to contemplate his reasons for being in as early as he was and she left a while later to fetch Catalina's potion and to wake up some of the other patients.

"Am I getting out today?" Catalina asked her when she returned with a small purple vial.

"Hmm," huffed Madam Pomfrey who looked as if she desperately wanted a reason to keep her in, but couldn't really find one, "yes, you may leave -"

"Excellent," she said, making to get up and go there and then.

"_After_ you've drank this and let it go down. You should make second lesson," she declared, stalking away again, obviously in a bad mood.

Catalina took the potion with a grimace, "I'm sure she's made it purposely horrible," she said with a face like a sour lemon.

She had to wait for it to go down again so Harry hung around still holding her trembling hands and chatting away about unimportant things, what they usually did when faced with something horrible they didn't want to talk about. Harry could tell she was pretty messed up by the encounter, even if she didn't want to admit it and tried valiantly to cover it with humour.

"I don't think I want to visit Hogsmeade again," she said with a laugh after a while, snuggling down into her pillows and turning to face him, "every time I go there I end up being attacked and in the hospital wing."

"Hmm, yes, that is enough to put anyone off visiting the place," said Harry with a slight grin, unable to decide whether he was happy or not that she was trying to dodge the subject.

Harry stifled a yawn and Catalina hid a grin, "You didn't need to stay up for me all night."

"I was just making sure you were alright," he said, patting her hand in a theatrical manner.

"Yeah, well, I'm ok when I'm asleep aren't I? It's when I'm awake you better watch out!"

"Oooh I'm scared," he laughed, "is this the sequinned bulleen thing again?"

She merely poked her tongue out at him and he chuckled quietly, quite impressed at her diversionary tactics. She was definitely getting better at them.

"Knock knock," came a voice behind them, and they both jumped, twisting round to see Ron and Hermione standing there with nervous grins on their faces.

"Figured you'd be here," said Ron, obviously heartened by Harry and Catalina's smiles.

"Can't keep himself away," she said sweetly, "can you Harry?"

"Obviously not," said Hermione eyeing up Harry with his hands in Catalina's.

With a fake cough and a blushing face Harry pulled his hands off the bed and Ron and Hermione grinned at the two, who were both looking like they'd been caught up to mischief.

"Feeling better Catalina?" asked Hermione, trying to spare them some blushes as Ron was sniggering next to her.

"Much thanks," she said, "I'll be out in time for second lesson."

"Oh great," said Hermione happily.

"Harry we've got your book bag," said Ron, trying to hide his grin, "you better get going or else you'll miss breakfast."

"Oh," he said, looking disappointed, "right. I'll catch up with you guys in a second."

They both nodded and waved goodbye to Catalina before heading out of he room. Harry watched them go and turned back to Catalina, hoisting his bag up.

"Oh, just one thing," he said with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "got you something to pass the time…"

He pulled out a grey feather quill and a piece of parchment sliding it onto her lap. The feather stood to attention of the paper and with a small laugh, he pulled another quill half out of his pocket - the twin to the IMS quill. 

"First lessons Charms," he explained as she laughed in understanding, "Flitwick never takes any notice…"

"Fantastic," she said happily, picking up the quill and examining it.

"I better go, but you take care of yourself ok?" he said, standing up, "I'll come get you at break."

"Alright then," she said with a sigh, "I'll just wait here shall I?"

"Little Miss Sarcastic today aren't we," he said, before casting a look towards the door, "see you later."

He turned to go away, hesitated slightly before turning back to her. She raised her eyebrows questioningly at him as he stood there, apparently arguing with himself over something. Finally he gave her a strange look.

"Try not to worry?" he said seriously.

He leaned over the side of her bed and planted a small kiss on her forehead, before straightening up and striding out of the room. She watched the doorway she'd just seen his robes disappear through with a dreamy, albeit shocked expression for some time.

*

Ron and Hermione didn't understand what Harry was finding so fascinating about his work. Usually in Charms they didn't do much work, but today he had been writing for the past half an hour solidly with his new quill. Every now and again he would given a grin or a sudden smile as he looked around for inspiration, the quill in his hand writing away without him even looking.

"Ok, spill," said Ron suddenly, leaning across their desk.

"Huh?" said Harry, looking up as if noticing everyone was there for the first time.

"What are you up to?" Ron said suspiciously, "I'm sorry but an essay on the Vanishing charm just can't be that interesting!"

"It could be," said Harry looking hurt.

"No sorry Harry I don't buy it," added Hermione, "_I'm _not that interested in it so you certainly aren't."

"Whoa whoa," said Ron with a great laugh, "stop the press! Hold a conference! News flash - Hermione is human too!"

Harry laughed and looked down at her latest reply, sniggering and hastily scribbling back while Hermione glowered at Ron evilly.

"Oh come on now," said Ron, pulling the parchment out of his hand, "what are you writing?"

"Its none of your business!" replied Harry sweetly, pulling the parchment back.

They both watched him writing away for a few more moments before Hermione had a sudden idea.

"Oh I know what it is," she said shrewdly, "your writing a love letter aren't you? To Catalina?"

Harry was so side-tracked by what she said, staring at her open-mouthed that Ron had time to reach across the desk and pull away the parchment. He held Harry at arms length, trying to read the page of red and blue writing.

"Well…that's…because…you…never…said…" he began to read, struggling against Harry's grasping hands.

"Ron give it back," he growled.

They were about to start bickering when the grey quill zoomed across the desk until it was horizontal to the page. Ron was so shocked he dropped the parchment and it fluttered to the desktop, still writing away. He and Hermione leant over it, reading it looking scared.

"Hey…Harry…What's…up…you've…gone…quiet?" read out Hermione slowly, looking over to him in an accusing glare, "What is this?"

"Surprise!" he said weakly as more script appeared on the parchment.

__

Harry?

"It's a Instant Messaging Service Quill," he said wearily, "we were going to give one to you when you go to France, so we could still talk, you know."

"It's Catalina?" asked Ron, picking up the parchment again.

Harry leant across the table and yanked it out of his hands, "Yes, its Catalina - which means it's _private_."

"I'll bet - we saw you holding hands in Hogsmeade! What's up with you two?" asked Ron, looking like he was really enjoying the turning of the tables.

"An IMS Quill?" asked Hermione, watching it scratching across the page.

"Well what do you thinks going on?" asked Harry, with a shrug.

"An _IMS_ Quill?" she continued sounding in awe.

"Are you going out?" asked Ron eagerly, both of them completely ignoring Hermione.

"These are really rare! And expensive! Where did you get it from?" she asked, watching the quill continue to write, even though Harry was holding the parchment upside down at his side.

"Well…sort of. I _think_ so," started Harry thoughtfully.

"What do you mean you think so? You're either going out or you're not," pointed out Ron.

"I've read about them of course, apparently the feather comes from the Geminus Bird," started Hermione, obviously paying as much attention to the guys as they were to her.

"Well, I mean, it's complicated," said Harry.

"It's always complicated with you and her," said Ron, rolling his eyes, "you make things too complicated."

"Apparently, the twin birds always copy each other," said Hermione, "so the feathers will always copy each other…"

"But, you said you _think _so?" asked Ron.

"Yeah I think so," said Harry with a grin, "I definitely think so. She doesn't kill me every time I touch her -"

"That much is obvious," smirked Ron.

"And we're getting on…good," he finished lamely, "really well in fact."

They were unaware of Hermione muttering away, still on the subject of the quill.

"So have you kissed her yet?" asked Ron, point blank.

That stopped Hermione mid-sentence, and she turned to Harry, as did Ron, waiting expectantly. Harry was enjoying holding them in suspension as long as he was, there looks were priceless and he was wanted to share them with Catalina.

"Where?" Harry asked eventually after he could no longer pretend to not understand what they were talking about.

"What do you mean where!" exclaimed Ron delightedly, "where else are you going to kiss her?"

"Not where you think, obviously," said Harry, with a fake look of disgust towards Ron, "on the forehead if you must know."

"So not on the lips?" said Hermione in disappointment, "come on Harry, you've know each other for over a year now. Just make the first move…"

"It's not as easy between me and her as it is between you and Ron," explained Harry wearily, "there's no expectation between you two, no _media coverage_."

"Even so, a year is a long time to love someone and not act on it" pointed out Ron, as the quill went mad, jotting away.

"Hey! You and Hermione lasted five! But just give me time," promised Harry with a blushing grin, "all we need is a few more weeks."

"Why not now?" pleaded Hermione, "before we go away? I want to witness the happy occasion!"

"We'll just see," said Harry, finally replying to the tons of messages left by Catalina.

"So you want to go out with her?" asked Ron, taking advantage of this free for all discussion.

"Of course I do," explained Harry as he wrote away, "I'm in love with her for godssakes."

Ron and Hermione sat back in their seats looking impressed, that as the first time they'd ever really heard Harry confess to that. 

"And how does she feel?" continued Ron as Professor Flitwick moved closer, reading over Dean and Seamus's shoulders.

"The same," shrugged Harry, before adding worriedly, "I hope. No, I'm just being pessimistic, she does."

"How can you be so sure?" asked Ron mischievously, trying to play with Harry's mind now.

"Because she told me," said Harry simply, as if explaining something very simple to a toddler.

"What she just came out a said, 'I love you'?" asked Hermione, looking delighted.

"No, I think her exact words, were '"And I'm going to be honest, no more lying or secrets,' and I asked what lies and secrets and she just said, "I've been keeping a big secret, about how I've fallen in love with my best friend.'"

Ron gave a whoop, leaning back on his chair legs, and Hermione clapped happily. They caused such a commotion that Professor Flitwick looked across to them and shushed them up.

"She said that!" asked Hermione delightedly in a high whisper.

"Yeah," said Harry bashfully, carefully wording his reply to Catalina.

"That's so romantic," sighed Hermione, looking out of the window dreamily, "Ron's never said anything like that to me."

"Hey, I'm still here you know," said Ron peevishly, "remind me to kill Catalina for setting a standard."

"Can I see your work so far?" asked Flitwick, appearing next to their table.

Hermione looked flustered a pushed forward her parchment, which Flitwick merely scanned over and nodded approvingly. Ron waved his paragraph of work, which Flitwick eyed coldly, suggesting he put a bit more effort in next time.

"Mr Potter?" said the Professor when Harry hadn't handed him his, "you're work?"

"Er," said Harry, looking around desperately, "I've er, actually been practising the charm before writing up about it."

"Really?" asked the tiny teacher disapprovingly, "well, let's see it then."

Harry gulped and pulled out his wand, focusing on the quill the professor had placed in front of him. Despite his magus powers, both he and Catalina had been told to do only wandwork in lessons, during their free time it was ok to use bare hands.

"_Evanesco_," he said, with a flourish at the quill.

Sadly nothing happened. He guessed he must have not been concentrating, what with Catalina writing back to him on the parchment concealed under the desk and his thoughts still on her rather than his class work.

"I er, obviously need a bit more practise," said Harry weakly with the ambitious hope of making light of his faux pas.

"Obviously," said Flitwick, not looking very impressed at all, "if it were not for the fact you are coming here tonight already I would call you back for a bit of practise. Now get to work on that essay."

The teacher stalked off, obviously not in a very good mood today at all. When he was finally out of earshot Harry turned back to the others, catching Ron's eye and grinning, wiping away the fake sweat.

"Thought you were a gonner then mate," said Ron with a laugh, "you're usually really good at that charm."

"It's the pressure," joked Harry cheerfully, already writing back to Catalina, "I just can't take it man!"

"I don't think you should joke about it Harry," said Hermione sternly, "you _should _be working, not flirting via your new magic quill."

"Hey," protested Harry indignantly, annoyed at Hermione sour look, "didn't Ron just say I was usually good at this charm? Therefor I needn't write up pointless reams about it. Anyway, I'm not _flirting_, I'm trying to cheer her up."

Hermione merely rolled her eyes as Harry looked down the parchment, sniggered, and bent over it, furiously writing away again. 

In the end Hermione showed him a special charm that meant only he could read what was being written on the page, trying to put a stop to Ron sneaking looks and teasing him, as well as just in case he got caught by a teacher. Five minutes before the lesson finished he was packed up and ready and raring to go, already thinking about what he was going to talk to Catalina about when he met her at break. Professor Flitwick dismissed them, annoyingly holding Harry back to have a 'serious chat' about his concentration and work during the lesson. Harry tried to convince him he was just worried about Catalina after yesterday, and that seemed to soften him up and he finally let Harry go.

Ron and Hermione met him outside the classroom and jogged with him to the Hospital Wing, where Catalina was already waiting for them, sitting on the side on the bed with a bored look on her face. In her hand she held a quill and a rolled up piece of parchment.

"Sorry I'm late," Harry said as he approached with a apologetic look on his face, "apparently Flitwick thinks I 'am lacking in concentration and passion for the subject' or something along those lines."

"Charms went well then I take it?" she asked, climbing to her feet.

Harry felt the small pressure of a headache throbbing in his head that he knew belonged to her a gave her a sympathetic look. He didn't say anything however and followed her and Hermione out of the Hospital Wing.

"I've got to go and get my bags and stuff before potions," she explained, "meet you there?"

"Oh ok," said Harry as she began to walk off, "you want me to come with?"

"I'm sure I can manage on my own," laughed Catalina, eyebrows cocked.

He merely bobbed his tongue out at her while Ron sniggered beside him. Harry elbowed him sharply.

"I'll come with you if you don't mind Catalina," said Hermione quickly, "I need to pick up my runes dictionary, I forgot to pack it."

They guys gave a wave to Catalina and Hermione who disappeared around the corner and began to walk to the classroom, chatting animatedly.

"No doubt she's gone and told Catalina everything you said today," said Ron with a roll of his eyes, "she's desperate for you two to get together before we leave."

"Well, it's Tuesday now, and we leave on Sunday morning," began Harry as they leant against the wall and waited for the rest of the class to turn up, "and in the mean time we have to perfect our language charms, pack our bags and attend a funeral."

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that," said Ron quietly, "when is it?"

"Friday," said Harry, "we're getting some Order guards to take us to the cemetery by Godric's Hollow for the day."

"Oh," said Ron, looking slightly dispirited now, "good of Dumbledore to sort it out so quickly really isn't it?"

"Yeah, good," said Harry awkwardly.

They didn't say anything for a while and seized with great gusto the opportunity to talk to the other Gryffindor dorm mates who had just turned up. Apparently Dean had got permission off Dumbledore to set up an after school club for playing football and was excitedly discussing leagues and house teams already - everyone else thought he was getting a bit over the top when he began outlining strip details. 

*

Harry pulled the large stack of parchment squares towards him and inked his quill. He stared at the page for a long while, trying to think of the best way to word his letter. Should he be formal, or personal? Who should he sign it from? How much information should he put into it? All these things he needed to think about, it was already making his head hurt.

Finally he lowered his quill and began to write, stopping every now and again and looking to the roof of the library for inspiration. When he finished the first letter he sat back and read it, rubbing his eyes tiredly, he hadn't realised how long he'd gone without sleep until that moment.

__

Dear Mr/Mrs ____

I am sorry to inform you that Mary Firelight nee Cotard sadly passed away on Saturday 22nd of September in St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, England. 

You are invited to attend the memorial service and burial at Five Willows Cemetery, Godric's Hollow by her daughter Catalina. The service will begin at 1pm, on Friday 28th September

Details of international portkeys and transport options to the nearest Floo Station, Old Town Street, are enclosed within.

Yours sincerely,

H.J. Potter

Harry didn't like the letter he decided. It was so formal and such a terrible way to break the news to some of Mary's friends of her death, but he didn't know any other way to word it. He was also going to put 'the family invite you' but realised this sounded a little bit stupid as it was only Catalina who was going to be there.

"_Replicato_," Harry muttered, waving his hand surreptitiously over the letter, pleased when a crisp new copy appeared next to it.

For the next ten minutes he repeated this charm, before he pulled out the address book Catalina had given her. He opened its pages and began on A, realising it was going to probably take him all of lunchtime and into this evening to get the whole book finished. He also realised with a jolt many of the people lived in foreign countries - in fact almost 90% of them did, and Harry had little hope that they would attend.

Harry felt a surge of irritation when he got to the C's in the address book and saw the Cotard's listed. He knew it was the right address as he'd taken a floo ride to their home in the summer, but the writing looked incredibly faded as if the address was written many a year ago. He wrote to them anyway, still dwelling on the thought that they never came to see Catalina's mum in hospital, not even when she was dying, or to pay their respects and help comfort Catalina afterwards.

He doubted whether they'd even come to the funeral.

Harry looked at his watch and realised with a jolt that he'd missed the entire lunch and it was time for next lesson. Hastily picking up the reams of papers and enveloped, stashing them away in his already bulging bag he ran out of the library and made his way for the wide lawns towards Hagrid's cabin.

The lessons passed quickly and Catalina gave no sign of remembering or caring much of yesterday's events, or that she knew what was coming this Friday.

"I don't mean to sound judgmental or anything," Hermione had said to him in an undertone as they pruned the same pot plant in their afternoon lesson, "but she doesn't seem very upset to me, about her mum that is."

Harry gave her a quick look before looking over to Catalina who was sharing a low conversation with Ron which seemed to be very entertaining. As if to compound Hermione's thoughts, Catalina's laughter carried across the workbenches and Hermione looked significantly at him.

"It's complicated Hermione. She wasn't as close to her parents as you and Ron are with yours," Harry begun, trying to fathom it himself, "it's like this. Whenever anything happens to her she doesn't like, she just sort of blocks it out you know? She just doesn't acknowledge it. She's always been like it."

"But she can't block something as huge as this out surely?" she continued, watching Harry closely, "this isn't just some fight or new newspaper report - this is her _mothers_ death. And she _used _to be really close to her parents before she came to Hogwarts, she told me. And even if they didn't appear to be as close as me and Ron are to our parents now, she still must have had some bond with her surely?"

"I don't know," said Harry heavily, "there was a lot of bad blood between that family. She feels betrayed that her mother committed suicide, for still loving her dad after everything that happened, for seemingly not loving her."

"I'm sure she did!" protested Hermione at once.

Harry gave her a thoughtful look, before proceeding to tell Hermione about Mary Firelight's memory box and how it contained nothing relating to Catalina at all. Hermione looked shocked and confused all at once, she too obviously couldn't understand the mystery of the box either.

"Even so," struggled on Hermione, dipping her voice even more, "I haven't even seen her shed a single tear, not one."

"She has," said Harry awkwardly, wondering whether or not he was betraying Catalina by telling Hermione all this stuff, "a lot. When we were there, she didn't stop for practically the whole time, not until the box incident any way. After that she just shouted, and threw things about. I'm guessing she just doesn't know what to think about her mother anymore."

Hermione nodded and they both turned to watch Catalina, who was now shrieking with laughter with Ron, who both had tears of laughter running down their faces. Hermione gave a tut, "Even if she is confused, I wouldn't expect her to be acting like this. It's disrespectful."

"Mary Firelight lost Catalina's and my own respect the day she died," said Harry reprovingly, "it wasn't any old accident Hermione, it was suicide! She starved herself to death - what kind of message does that send your daughter eh?"

"Even so…" said Hermione awkwardly, "even so…"

"She is upset," said Harry eventually, "but she just doesn't show it like she used to…Trust me ok?"

"Well, if you say so," said Hermione, "but I'll still speak to her later I think."

Harry merely shrugged and returned to his plant.

"I'm glad you're sorting things out with her though," said Hermione a while later, sensing not to brooch the previous topic of conversation.

Harry gave a swift smile at his plant, before trying not to appear too pleased with himself, "So am I."

"It's always been hard between you two, hasn't it?" she said, almost sadly, looking over to Catalina and Ron who were still sharing a private joke.

"Not really," he said, squirming slightly.

She gave him an understanding look, knowing that he didn't believe what he'd said anymore than she did.

"The problems never been lack of love though has it," she told him, maintaining eye contact with the small green petals of the shrub as she prodded her two best friends relationship further. 

"No," Harry snorted, before going bright red.

Hermione had a feeling he hadn't meant to be so candid. She gave him a warm smile to say that it didn't matter, she already knew.

"You're a lot different since you met her you know," Hermione continued, not sure how much of a personal conversation she was going to get away with.

"What, you mean stressed and constantly on edge?" joked Harry with a slight chuckle. 

"No," smiled Hermione, before becoming serious again, "I just meant that you're a lot more…I don't even know what it is. You just seem so much more…settled."

"Settled?" repeated Harry with a raised eyebrow, obviously puzzled.

"That's not it. I don't know, it's just like this. I believe every person had a place, or a niche or something where they belong. And when we were muggles starting in Hogwarts we found our niches right? And we kind of _sunk _into them over time? But you could tell that you never fully settled, because of your history and your fame and everything…"

"Your making uncharacteristically little sense," put in Harry, frowning in concentration as he attempted to follow Hermione's analogy.

"Yeah I know," laughed Hermione, before attempting to straighten out her thoughts, "I just think that since Catalina turned up you've found your place. You've found someone who actually knows what its like to deal with the things you have to? Honestly, I know I'm rambling, but you must admit, despite massive differences, your lives are spookily the same in ways…"

"I think that's a good thing right?" Harry finally said, after he had processed and translated what Hermione had said.

"Yes," laughed Hermione this time, before suddenly thinking of something, "You're happy! That's what it is!"

"Hermione, I wasn't _unhappy_ before Catalina moved here," he said with a slight smile.

"Not like that," she grinned, still not quite sure what she was talking about, before stating frimly, "you're in love. And love makes you feel a different kind of happiness. You belong with her, and she belongs with you, it's as simple as that."

"Yet it's just taken you ten minutes to actually state that," said Harry.

She smiled and Harry caught her eye, shaking his head in amusement. Just then they heard Ron's sudden guffaw of laughter and they both looked across to their respective partners, who were leaning over their bench laughing with Lavender. Hermione looked slightly surprised, she'd forgotten the Lavender's behaviour to Catalina had improved. 

"I'm glad some people are starting to come round," Harry murmured, almost to himself and Hermione gave a quick nod.

They worked away for another few minutes in silence and Hermione thought back across their conversation happily, she couldn't remember the last time she'd spoken to Harry for so long about matters of the heart - in fact, she didn't think she ever had. 

However, while she was thinking over these thoughts she noticed something that made her frown slightly. Catalina had been leaning across her desk, trying to reach a new pair of shears when Ron reached over and tried to get her attention by tapping a hand on her lower back. She gave a horrified start, and whipped around to Ron quickly, who hadn't noticed as his attention was fixed on Malfoy, who was doing something that Ron had wanted to show Catalina.

"Why does she do that?" Hermione asked Harry in a confused voice.

When he didn't answer right away she turned to look at him, staring across the room to them looking just as confused as Hermione felt. 

"I don't know," he said finally, dropping his gaze to the plant, before almost instantly raising them back to Catalina.

"It must be something to do with her time in Azkaban don't you think?" she suggested tentatively, not sure how much of what she suspected she should give away to Harry, "or at the Riddle Manor, or St. Mungo's…"

"What do you mean?" he asked swiftly and Hermione noticed the horrible look in his eyes, a look that reminded her of Sirius's wanted posters in her third year.

"Well, it's just…." she tried, before faltering.

She didn't know what to say to Harry, wondering if the thought had crossed his mind at all, or whether she was just going to cause more trouble. All she knew was that, ever since she'd seen Catalina since the Troubles of last year, she'd been terrified of being touched by people. At first her reactions were violent, but over the months they'd calmed down until she could walk down the corridor without flinching.

She tried to think of a reason and come up with only one, one that was too horrifying to think about, let alone speak the words to Harry, who she felt would be as devastated as he would be angry.

"Hermione?" 

His voice cut into her reverie and she shook herself, tried to avoid his frightening, worried look.

"It's nothing Harry," she said finally, "I just wondered that maybe there was some kind of hex on her that makes her act like that, or some kind of injury?"

She knew it wasn't a stunningly brilliant lie, but Harry didn't seem to question it. Rather, a sudden look of understanding flashed in his eyes and he turned to her, giving her a calculating look.

"She has a…scar there," he said, obviously choosing his words carefully, "where Ron just touched her, she has a scar…"

"What kind of scar?" asked Hermione suspiciously.

"Not one of these," he said, jabbing his lightning bolt scar a little too viciously, "a…a different one, it's recent, last few months."

She couldn't understand why he was being so shifty about an ordinary scar, or why he thought it was so important - she could tell he was desperate to talk to her about it.

"Well, what does it look like first?" she asked him, trying to sound as if she knew anything about medicine.

"See, that's the thing," said Harry, shifting closer to Hermione so no-one would hear him, "it's not normal looking, it's sort of like…here…"

He reached across the desk for a scrap of parchment and carefully began to draw something on it, hiding it from everyone, including Hermione's, view. He finally handed it over, not quite meeting her eyes. With another curious look at him she looked down at the parchment.

She felt as if ice had just flooded her veins as she looked at what Harry had just handed her, taking in the long drawing as one continuous line zigzagged across the page, curling into ornate rolls at each end as if it were some heraldic design. If Harry had not told her it was a drawing of a scar, she would have said it was someone practising Celtic knotwork.

"This is cut into her skin?" she whispered back to him, eyes round in horror.

"You know what it is?" he asked quickly, looking suddenly manic, "what is it, tell me?"

"No, no…I don't know what it is," she told him, not realising her fingers were shaking slightly.

"Then why are you acting like that?" he demanded, "Hermione, if you know anything, you've got to tell me! I -,"

"No, I honestly don't know anything," she whispered, before raising her disbelieving eyes to Harry's and holding out the parchment, "but do you know what this means? What having that on her _back _means?"

"No, what?" he demanded quickly, looking frightened at what she was about to say.

"Harry," she said faintly, "this is _deliberate_…she couldn't have put it there, and you don't fall and get this kind of, of, _ornate artwork_…it's deliberate…"

Harry looked very much as if he were about to be sick, although the thought must have occurred to him, Hermione could tell he was deeply shocked by her words and caught his shaky look towards Catalina. She noticed he was gripping the edge of the workbench with white knuckled hands and Hermione stared down at the picture of the scar again.

"Do you think…Riddle Manor?" she asked him, voice trembling now.

He gave her a swift look, before glancing over to Catalina.

"When I think, of, of what happened to her then, what _might_ have happened," began Harry, breathing heavily as he broke off, "I mean we don't know what happened do we…we don't know, what they did to her…"

"Harry," said Hermione, close to tears as she laid a comforting hand on his arm, "please don't think about it…it's in the past now."

"But she must think about it," he said in a strained voice, "the reminders are all around her aren't they? What does she think…she must think about it _all _the time, mustn't she Hermione?"

"Please Harry, don't," she said anxiously, setting fire to the picture in her hand, "if she hasn't spoken to you about it, then she doesn't want to…"

"Yeah…" he said in a faraway voice, not looking at all convinced or comforted by her words, in fact she had the feeling they'd worsened the situation somehow.

"Have you never seen it?" he asked her suddenly, "you live in the same dorm, surely you would have seen it?"

"No I've never," said Hermione worriedly, casting a look over to Ron, she wanted him to come over and talk about this and help Harry, "she always changes in the toilets, because she's embarrassed of her Dark Mark…"

"It always looks brand new," he said in that same distant voice, not noticing everyone was packing up to leave, "I've seen it three or four times, but it always looks ready to split…"

"There must be some sort of residual from the curse," she told him, noticing Catalina and Ron had nearly finished packing away, "listen, class is over, they're coming over…what are you going to do?"

"I can't ask her about it can I?" he asked her hopelessly, "I suppose I could do some research…there must be something about scar art, inflicted pain and that sort of thing?"

Hermione blanched at what he said and he seemed to go even paler, but at that moment Ron bounded over, looking incredibly smug.

"Did you see Malfoy cock up?" he asked the pair delightedly, still chuckling at the memory, joined quickly by Catalina, who giggled and sat on the worktop in between Ron and Harry.

"No, no…what happened?" asked Hermione, trying to pull herself together, noticing the look Harry was giving his bag as he packed up, carefully avoiding everyone else's gaze.

"Didn't listen to Sprout saying that Sumbucus extract caused temporary loss of coherent speech if inhaled," snickered Catalina, looking immensely pleased with herself as she swung her legs from the bench. 

"He's been babbling about green frogs falling from the ceiling for five minutes!" exclaimed Ron, "don't tell me you missed it?!"

He looked horrified at the prospect.

"Yeah, must have been concentrating too much on not inhaling the extract ourselves," joked Hermione in a shaky voice before holding her hand out to Ron, "shall we get to DADA?"

"Yeah sure," he said, giving her a confused look, before being led out.

Catalina gave another happy laugh at the memory of Malfoy as she watched them and turned to look at Harry, who was watching her with the oddest expression on his face. She opened her mouth to say something to him, but the words died in her throat as she noticed the look in his eyes. Her smile faltered and good mood slowly slipped away as she looked at him worriedly. 

"Harry…" she said slowly, not quite sure what else she could say.

This however seemed to spur him into action.

"I just want you to…you know that I would…" he tried, seemingly unable to sort out his own thoughts, "I want -."

"Did you inhale Sumbucus extract too?" she tried, giving him a worried smile as her joke faded away without notice. 

"No, no I didn't," he said, and she got the feeling he had something important to say, so she waited. 

He stepped towards the table which she was sitting on and placed his hands on her knees, patting them worriedly, staring at the spot as if what he wanted to say was written there.

"I know we don't talk much about what happened, in May," he began, and she instantly tensed, she couldn't help it.

Harry must have felt it because he gave her a swift, understanding look, "and we don't ever have to, if you don't want to…"

She nodded heavily, unable to stop the storm of images the simple word 'May' had conjured in her head, visions of her in Death Eater robes, the pain of Cruciatus, holding that knife, stabbing that woman, the feeling of her boot pushing down on Harry's windpipe…

Carefully, he placed his hand on her hips and gently slid her off the bench, so that she landed on the floor right in front of him. She couldn't look in his eyes, feeling somehow it wasn't right when all she would be able to see was the look of horror and pain beyond anything as she stabbed him all those months before, being able to see, as if it were happening right in front of her now, the way he'd slumped away from her onto the floor. She could still remember the rivers of blood that fell between the floorboards and splashed as she walked through them.

As if sensing exactly what she was thinking, he placed two slightly shaking hands on either side of her bowed face and tilted it up until she met his eyes. 

"It doesn't change anything, between us, does it?" he told her quietly, searching her eyes.

She gave the slightest sigh and dropped her eyes again, she hated all the doubts that surfaced in her mind whenever she thought about May, it brought down everything she worked hard to ignore.

"Because I love you, and nothing is ever going to change that," he whispered in a low voice.

She gave a slight start at his words and found herself looking up into his eyes, that were so alight with passion and feeling that she could hardly stand to look at them, wondering what on earth she'd done that meant so much that he could love her that much. 

"No, nothing will change that," she replied, leaning her forehead against his now as he wrapped his arms around her, a move which she copied. 

"And you know that I'd do anything for you," he continued in that same low voice, holding eye contact so that she could do nothing but stare back, almost hungrily.

"I know that," she told him, unable to keep the tremor out of her voice, as she desperately wished she never had to leave his side ever again. 

"And that if anything ever happened to you, I just," he broke off, not even able to finish what he was saying.

"I know," she managed to choke out, feeling that being here was the most important thing she'd ever done, that hearing these words, and knowing that she could say them back without a seconds hesitation.

"Me too."

It was all she needed to say, all he needed to hear, there was nothing else she could have said that would have meant anything more to him. He moved his forehead off of hers and she laid her head on his shoulder as he pulled her tighter towards him. She let out the breath she hadn't known she'd been holding and smiled sadly, taking another deep breath and noticing how Harry smelt of woodsmoke and grass. Too much time spent in front of the Gryffindor fireplace and the Quidditch field she thought vaguely. He buried his face into her hair and seemed to not be able to pull her close enough.

She didn't know what Hermione had said to Harry to make him act like this, but she found she didn't care, they should have said those things to each other so long ago, but now they had, in a weird way it seemed right for waiting. She was amazed by the force of her feelings for him, as if no words could be put to them, and she could feel like there was no evil in the world, just for that minute. 

She was just becoming lost in her thoughts when she felt his head move slightly, she hoped he wasn't going to suggest they go to their next lesson, she never wanted to move ever again. But instead of him moving away she felt a sudden pressure on the one side of her neck and it took her a few moments to realise Harry had planted a soft kiss there. Her heart was hammering wildly as she closed her eyes against the pleasant thrill that had chased up and down her spine.

She really wanted to know what was going on with him now, this was all so unexpected….

She felt Harry exhale shakily, still close to her neck that she could feel the heat of his breath and at that very second all she wanted to do was to step back slightly and kiss him right back, let him know that she was ready, they were ready, that everything was ok.

However at that moment Harry began to loosen his grip on her and gradually stood back. She had expected him to be hiding his eyes but instead he held them for a long time, taking in her look of shock, comfort, love and gave a steady nod. His eyes were unreadable.

"We're late for Lu Tze," was all he said, before turning away and gathering up his bag.

"Right…" she managed to say, shivering against the cold that invaded her skin no that Harry wasn't there.

Wordlessly he held out his hand for hers.

Feeling slightly as if she was in a dream, she took the hand and they walked out of the greenhouse with their shoulders touching and fingers laced within each others.

AN/ Somehow, I think we all knew I was going to be having this conversation with you huh? I'm so sorry about the lapse of a week from the promised posting deadline but I have a really good excuse this time! I was in a caravan in deepest darkest north Wales in a caravan for a week with no tv, let alone internet! AGH!

So, she says meekly, SORRY! Anywho, how did you like this chapter, a bit of history, a bit of romance (at long last you all sigh). By the way, did no one except randomreaderguy **want to know the answer to the riddle Catalina asked Harry last chapter?**

__

What is more powerful than God, 

More evil than the Devil,

If you eat it you die,

Rich people want it, 

Poor people have it…

What am I?

**athenakitty** - Athenakitty, mistress of the questions! As to this weeks list, I'm not sure I quite follow them! Firstly "Catalina have fun ranting?" I think you mean from this chapter and yes, everyone loves a bit of a rant don't they? "Will Harry break free?" break free from what? The timescape? Well, alls revealed here as they say! "Who's Harry guardian?" Its still Sirius in this fic as I began writing a year before book 5 and The Incident in that which has left Harry semi-guardianless and "Will Harry upset somebody's plan?" Who's? Lol, thanks for the review, or questions I should say!

**cloud6475** - I'm so glad you like my story I mostly write for myself so it's always nice to hear other people enjoy it to! And I know what you mean about the review thing, I've read stories than have literally thousands and poor ole me is stuck on 248! Oh well, I guess some people have got more recognition and followers, mine seems to be a minority taste! Glad you like the H/C relationship, things do get better from now on, promise!

**goldensnitch3** - Sorry, she says meekly, for the cliffie! Thought I hadn't done it for a while! And sorry for the wait but don't worry - she's alive - we all knew she would be! She tougher than a bit of manhandling!

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Harrybrandybuck - I'm very sorry about the lag in time in posting, hope this chapter made up for it!

**Nasser Himura** - I'm glad you like my latest super-power, don't know how realistic it was so it was fingers crossed for peoples reaction, they seemed to like it! Would be interesting if Harry and Catalina could develop that huh? Exciting possibilities!

**nyermen** - Glad you had a good time (hopefully) in India. Am slightly worried about how you know I watch Red Dwarf - was it something I said! Or do I just radiate a knowledge of the kings of smeg? Lols! Thanks for the review!

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randomreaderguy -Ahah, the riddle. You know I was quite surprised - you were the ONLY person who asked about the riddle, no one even wants to know the answer! Do you? It's not from the HP books, and I'm not aware if it's in any other books, I got it from a junk e-mail my mate sent me. Tell you what, as an incentive to keep reading this terrible story, I'll tell you the answer NEXT POST!

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Rich - Hey there again. You're right about Catalina's dad, getting a bit too powerful for his own good coughs plot spoiler coughs His story is basically dealt in this story, don't know if there's another planned - its all down to workload as usual! And as to the location of Remus's house, I chose to have it nice and local to me too - I find it a lot easier to write about somewhere where I've _been_ lols. I go up to Princetown sledging on the moors at winter, or at least I used to! Uni's the same here, all ok until you remember the deadlines and exams looming and then things get a little hairy! What course are you doing?

**Rini Sayian-jin** - Lols, thanks for the review. I liked the whole Hermione and the slippy ice routine too - could really imagine it. In fact, I think I may have witnessed it a few times so maybe I'm plagiarising real life!

**Talix** - Well hello patient FANTASTIC new reader! Firstly, thanks for the reviews for my last story (which personally I think is rubbish and totally flawed!) and for this one - you must have spent hell of a lot of time on the net reading this rubbish! So, for this chapter, I realised being able to stop time was a bit too much for the story (he could take over the world while everyone was frozen solid) so we had to have a few rules. Anyway, as you've just read, there's more to Timescapes than meets the eye!

And the red letters, again I'm surprised less people ask me about that than anything, I would be dead curious if I was them! Don't know what chapter it will be revealed, but in Poland FOR SURE. As to the Typo's thanks a lot for pointing them out, as I've probably said before, I'm terrible at English - haven't done it for about four years! However some of them you pointed out are a result of colloquiums and the way that I myself talk (which isn't exactly Queens English). I tend to forget to write properly and include some of my own sayings (such as "…am light" etc!)

THANKS FOR THE REVIEWS!


	29. SPEW SUCKS

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Chapter Twenty Eight 

S.P.E.W S.U.C.K.S

He narrowed his eyes as he watched the two walking across the grounds at break, feeling a knot of anger form in his stomach. He thought she was one of the most beautiful girls he'd even seen, with her long black hair, pale Russian complexion and foreign accent. But as usual bloody Saint Potter had her and he didn't.

Malfoy ground his fingernails into the palm of his hands in disgust, he got everything…he thought he was so smart and clever all the time, running around solving all of Hogwarts' little mysteries. Had anyone ever stopped and actually realised how much of a show off the scrawny git was? He played the martyr so well didn't he, everyone felt so sorry for him all the time…just because his parents were killed. Loads of people lost there parents, so why was _he _so special?

Because he was Potter that's why. Got all the attention, got all the praise, even got the bloody girl. It drove Malfoy insane watching them around the castle. Everyone knew they were going out, they certainly acted like they did anyway. They were always together, such good little buddies, knowing each others secrets, sharing those smiles, giving each other secret looks that were frankly sickening. 

And all because he's Potter. How does he do it, thought Malfoy bitterly. He had fully expected to meet and get along with the Firelight girl when she had started last year, even though she was a Firelight. His father had told him enough about her family to arouse his interest, and the photo of her in the Daily Prophet had cemented that view. What better match could there be than between two prominent pure-blooded houses such as their own? He could have got over the fact she was a Gryffindor, he knew he could, even if his father had warned him away. However, she hadn't chosen him had she? Oh no, that privilege had gone to none other than the Boy-Who-Bloody-Wouldn't-Die.

He secretly watched them walking across the grounds, laughing at something. They paused and faced each other and Malfoy flinched in expectation. He couldn't help but grimace in disgust when he saw Potter reach out and brush her hair away from her face. Life was so unfair.

And now they were off on holiday together for two months, Draco hated to think of what they would get up to, feeling somehow cheated by fate again. Well, he would soon put a stop to their fun he decided angrily, making a mental note to tell his father through the floo tonight about their imminent departure before vaguely wondering why he hadn't done so already.

All thoughts were drove from his head when his focus returned to Catalina, who had the first smile he'd seen on her face for some days now. He'd tell his father tomorrow, for definite….

Harry headed straight down to the library at the end of last lesson, throwing off the others with excuses and getting down to addressing the envelopes and stuffing in the tiny parchment notices. He only had an hour's worth of letter writing to do before he had the huge stack finished and all ready to deliver to the owlery. 

He went into autopilot as he wrote, mind back in Greenhouse Three with everything that had happened there. He didn't know what had come over him, he was so overcome by the topic of his and Hermione's conversation and the revelations she'd caused him to see. It was as if for the first time he fully appreciated what might and probably did happen during her 24 hours in the 'care' of the Death Eaters. It was all he could do to not search out the Death Eaters and thrown the ultimate unforgivable at them, it was the first time he'd ever thought like that and he knew with a certainty that if and when he next saw any Death Eater, he would kill them. And face the consequences. 

He meant it when he said he'd do anything for her. 

He rubbed his eyes distractedly, trying not to dwell on evil thoughts, thinking instead of the way they had stood together, just holding on to each other. It had taken every ounce of willpower he owned not to just lean forward and kiss her, and even now he wasn't sure why he didn't. He just knew that if he hadn't have stopped then, he wouldn't have at all and they would have missed much more than the first quarter of Lu Tze's lesson.

Shaking his head from all the thoughts vying for attention, he got up and stretched, gathering the enveloped into his arms, holding them in place with his chin and setting off, well aware of his grumbling stomach. He still had an evening worth of language charm practise with Flitwick and the others at 8, as well as a mountain of homework and checking up on his last potion from Snape's after schools lesson. He felt like this evening was going to be a long one, and he eyes were already drooping from staying up all night watching over Catalina.

He decided to let his feet do the walking as he closed his eyes briefly, if only to relieve the stinging, but found himself instead being knocked to the floor after colliding with something solid. He cracked his head on the floor and let out a moan as he sat up, gazing balefully at the mass of envelopes on the floor now, as well as the elderly witch climbing to her feet.

"Watch where you're going Potter," she growled as she winced slightly, rubbing her elbow.

"Sorry Professor McGonagall," apologised Harry, scrabbling on his hands and knees for the scattered invitations, "I didn't see you coming…"

"Obviously not," she said, before being sidetracked by Harry's fallen load, "what have you got here?"

"Just some letters I need to post," he said hastily, as she picked some of them up for him.

"You must have a lot of friends then," she said suspiciously, noting the hundreds of envelopes before looking at a few in her hand and adding in surprise, "in _India_? And China…Russia…South Africa? What is the meaning of all this?"

"They're er, they're invitations," he admitted finally, not seeing how he could wriggle out of what he was doing.

"What for?" she asked, still flipping through some of the addresses with interest.

"Er…Mary Firelight's funeral," he said, slightly defiantly.

McGonagall gave him a long look over the rim of her glasses that Harry couldn't really interpret. It may have been a faint flicker of pride, or it could just as likely have been worry but before Harry could translate it she became all business like.

"I see, and how, may I ask, are you planning to deliver all this envelopes around the world?"

"Er…school owls," said Harry weakly, noting for the first time how big the pile actually was.

Professor McGonagall gave him a withering look, before scooping up the rest of the envelopes with an easy charm, "Follow me Potter."

Feeling no good could come of protesting, Harry followed her silently, arms still overflowing with the invites and head thumping from where he hit the cold floor. She led him to her office and immediately lit a warm fire, which made the room heat up instantly.

"The school owls will take weeks to reach those sort of destinations, and there isn't nearly enough of them for you to take the whole flock," the Professor told him, not unkindly.

"Oh, right," mumbled Harry feeling panicked, "I just don't know how else I can post them…"

"There are other ways than owl post to deliver messages," she told him with a faint smile, obviously he was showing his muggle upbringing, "here's a crafty little spell."

She raised her wand at the first letter on top of the pile, threw it up in the air and blasted it with a shot of red light. The letter vanished instantly.

"Mr and Mrs Lai of Bangkok should be opening it as we speak," she told him, already reaching for the next letter. "Now this charms a bit too advanced for you, but it's a NEWT standard test though, so remember it. I'll do these for you, if you don't mind waiting?"

"Not at all Professor," said Harry gratefully, "thanks a lot."

She disappeared a few more letters and in the mean time Harry was offered tea and a ginger newt biscuit.

"So all that is left to discuss is the reason why _you_ are sending these letters?" she asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Professor Dumbledore told me to deliver them," lied Harry unconvincingly, "since I had the address book from Catalina…"

"I highly doubt Professor Dumbledore told you to steal the schools population of owls to deliver messages to the other side of the world," said McGonagall, with a strange glint in her eye, "we were under the impression that the hospital was dealing with all of this."

"They are," said Harry, eagerly jumping upon this useful excuse, "they just asked me to…"

"Steal the schools owl population?" she finished, sounding highly unconvinced.

"No," Harry finally said mulishly, "but it's no big deal, everything is sorted now apart from these."

"You are very much like your mother at times Harry," said McGonagall fondly, surprising Harry slightly with her tone, "you both let pride get in the way showing everyone what caring people you were, are."

"Erm…thanks Professor," said Harry, blushing slightly, not knowing how to answer the compliment, if indeed it was one. He hadn't heard very many people compliment him on being like his mother, only in the sense that their eyes were the same colour.

"She's a very lucky girl indeed to have a _friend_ like you Potter," she said a little more briskly, though Harry could see a tiny smile playing on her lips when she stressed the word 'friend'.

He blushed a little more.

"So, Potter," began McGonagall after a slight silence, "are you prepared for your task ahead?"

It took him a few seconds to figure out to what she was referring to and he gave her a nod.

"Yes, we're having our last few nights of language charm practise with Professor Flitwick and potion brewing with Snape -"

"_Professor_ Snape," cut in McGonagall

"WithProfessor Snape before the weekend," added Harry quickly.

"And how is the charm coming along?" she asked him, as five more letters disappeared into thin air.

"Oh, it's a little hard, but I think we've got it down though. But it only lasts half and hour before you have to put a new one on, and it gives you a little bit of a headache after a while," said Harry thoughtfully.

She nodded knowingly and flicked a few more invites away before turning to him, "You will have to practise speaking the language on your own. After a month of solid use its efficiency will wear thin. You may find yourself needing to go entire days without it."

"Yeah we've been warned about that," said Harry, a little anxiously, "it's alright for Catalina because she is just the best at languages, full stop. And Hermione already speaks French from her holidays and school. But me and Ron…well, I don't think we've got a hope really."

"You never know, you may surprise yourselves," said McGonagall, "but try not to worry to much. Your job is vitally important and you'll need your full concentration if you are to stay out of too much trouble. I sure even you could manage that for a few days at least?"

"I'll try," said Harry.

"Well, I'll finish these off for you Potter," said McGonagall when the pile grew considerably shorter, "you better get off for some dinner before your charms lesson."

"Ok," said Harry gratefully, getting up from his seat, "I really appreciate this Professor."

"Not at all Potter," she said briskly, "off you go now."

Harry walked out of her office and checked his watch. Dinner would almost be over now, so he ran through the corridors, hoping to get a roll at least before his language lesson. He was starving, having missed lunch, as well as being up all night. In fact he was feeling quite run down, altogether, his thoughts still dwelling on yesterday's events, even if Catalina's weren't. The only thing that kept him going was the thought of Greenhouse Three.

He entered the Great Hall and made his way over to the Gryffindor table. The others were no where in sight and the place was pretty empty, with only a few stragglers around now. He sat down wearily and pulled the Lancashire hotpot towards himself, going into a daze as he ate in auto-pilot.

He was thinking about how much Charles Firelight actually knew about the Orders whereabouts. He obviously knew that a lot of the members had disappeared without a trace, but thankfully he hadn't heard about his and Catalina's imminent disappearance. Harry wondered vaguely how he didn't know, surely Malfoy would have told his father, who was well-placed to let all the Death Eaters know.

"Hey Harry," came a voice, breaking him from his reverie.

He looked up to see Ginny sliding into the seat opposite him with a nervous smile on her face. He looked at her for a few seconds before replying.

"Hey," was all he said, going back to his meal.

Harry noticed that she hadn't made any move to get food after a few moments and looked back up to her questioningly. She was staring at him anxiously, chewing her bottom lip. Harry felt a flicker of irritation, he still hadn't forgot how she'd been treating Catalina this year and especially her resignation from the Quidditch team. 

"Do you want something Ginny?" he finally asked when he could pretend for no longer he wasn't aware of her stares.

"No, no, not at all," she said hastily, looking down at her plate blushing.

He sighed and went back to his meal, pulling out his folder on Grimbit's and propping it up in front of the drink jug and beginning to read up on the local town. He was halfway through reading up on the fact that the countries Ministry, or Duma, was located next to the school, when he felt someone staring at him. He looked up and sure enough he found Ginny's brown eyes looking his way.

"What?" he asked her irritably.

"Ok it's like this," she said, blushing deeply, "Catalina did me a favour today and I need to make up for her what a bitch I've been this term."

"Huh?" he asked, caught off-guard, he was sure she was going to ask to rejoin the Quidditch team.

"I need to make it up to her," she repeated patiently.

"She did you a favour?" he asked blankly, wondering why the hell she'd done that.

"Yeah, I had a run in with Cassandra Grimes this evening," she said, "and she helped me."

"Right…" said Harry feeling confused, "who's Cassandra Grimes?"

"She's a Slytherin fifth year," she explained, looking pained, "she absolutely hates me, ever since our first train ride. Anyway, to cut a long story short, she was about to completely deck me this evening. See, she found out that it was me who slipped one of Fred and George's latest experiments into her pumpkin juice, she didn't like having tentacles growing out of her nose I don't think…Anyway, Catalina helped me no end."

"Ok…" said Harry slowly, trying to imagine what Catalina actually did to get the Slytherin off Ginny's back.

"She's ok you know," said Ginny, sounding a mix between embarrassed and in awe, "she didn't need to help, but she did…"

"Yeah," agreed Harry, thinking he probably wouldn't have, given past history.

Ginny gave a deep breath and ran a hand through her hair, a trait Harry had seen much used by Ron. He hadn't really appreciated how much alike they really were until then, all their mannerisms were almost exactly the same, even the way they spoke.

"Harry," she pleaded desperately, "I need to make up for what I've been like and I don't know how."

He sat back, forgetting his dinner and reading material and looked at her thoughtfully. She seemed quite genuine, and even looked quite upset at the memory of her behaviour.

"Maybe, you could start by apologising?" he told her.

"Yeah…yeah, that's a good start," she said thoughtfully, before giving another Ron-like facial expression, "but how can I? After everything that's happened? What do I say?"

"I don't know," sighed Harry, "that's down to you isn't it."

She nodded again, and looked down at her dinner plate, which was waiting expectantly for food but was shoved away instead. 

"What did she do, by the way?" asked Harry suddenly, "to the Slytherin?"

"Oh," said Ginny, before grinning in a very twin-like way, "gave her right mouthful - she wasn't going to use magic or anything don't worry. But I didn't think Cassandra knew that! Oh, I tell you what, I've been waiting for this moment for _years_."

Harry grinned, before checking his watch. He realised with a jolt it was five to eight, by the time he reached Charms he was going to be late.

"Hey, listen I better go, I've got somewhere to be," said Harry hastily, getting up and ramming his folders into his bag, "but if you're going to apologise it better be quick, we're leaving on Sunday and we're going to be at the funeral all day Friday."

"Ok, thanks a lot Harry," she shouted after him, looking slightly pale at the mention of the funeral. 

He ran through the corridors once again, slightly annoyed he hadn't managed to finish his meal once again. He bumped into Neville on the way, shouting his apologies as he entered the second floor corridor. He finally skidded to a halt outside the door and hurried through.

"Nice of you to join us Mr Potter," said Professor Flitwick with a smile.

"Sorry I'm late professor," said Harry hastily, "I lost track of time."

He hurried over to the others, who were leaning against the tables, smirking at him. Hermione however had a thoughtful look on her face - Harry hated it when she looked like that because it inadvertently meant she knew what you were up to.

"Where've you been there Harry?" asked Catalina when he took up his space next to her, "I haven't seen you all afternoon."

"Oh, here and there," he replied, "had an evil Snape essay to finish."

"Right!" called Professor Flitwick, brandishing his wand, "you all know what to do. A gentle wave and good pronunciation of the incantation - _Linguistico Franco _and_ Linguistico Polska_."

Harry sat on one of the desks, facing Catalina, before waving the charm onto himself, using his wand. She did the same and he felt the familiar slight rush in his head that told him it had worked.

"We both sorted?" he asked Catalina, knowing for a fact he was speaking Polish, even though it just felt like English to him.

"Sounds like it to me," she replied, again he knew she was speaking Polish.

Hermione, Ron and Professor Flitwick were watching them in polite incomprehension, and Harry tried to work on switching from English to Polish while the charm was still on.

"Is it working?" Harry asked Hermione.

"Yeah," she said happily, "and you're switching languages well!"

"That will be useful for when you need to speak about something that you don't want the other students to hear," Professor Flitwick told them, "But just to be safe, you ought to devise a series of code words for things. You can never be sure of the extent of which foreigners can understand English."

Harry nodded and lifted the charm along with Catalina and turned to watch Hermione and Ron practise theirs. They could both do it now and switched languages perfectly and Harry and Catalina laughed at the refined ways with which Ron and Hermione spoke in French. Ron sounded positively upper class, very much different from his English Westcountry accent.

After about half an hour of practising, Professor Flitwick called them to attention.

"Well I think you're pretty much up to speed with this charm now. Take a look through your folders for the defensive spells and make sure you have them covered. But for now, I don't think you need to come back in the evenings. Make sure you practise though."

"Of course Professor," said Hermione as they all climbed to their feet.

They trooped out calling their thanks back and chatting away between the four of them happily. 

"Could we swing by the kitchens on the way back?" asked Harry after his stomach rumbled for the second time in as many minutes.

"You're already hungry?" asked Hermione in surprise, "we've just had dinner!"

"You did," he pointed out, "_I _haven't!"

"Why not?" she asked him, as they altered path.

"Told you didn't I? Lost track of time," he lied, as they walked down the painting lined corridor to the kitchen's secret entrance.

They reached the painting of the fruit bowl and Harry showed Catalina how to get into the kitchens, where she'd never been before. The pear morphed into the handle and they walked in, immediately engulfed by a swarm of helpful house-elves.

"Dobby! Hey Dobby!" called Harry, noticing the small elf sitting by the fire, wearing what looked like a miniature wizarding robe that had twinkling blue stars on it.

"Harry Potter Sir!" called out Dobby excitedly, rushing over and bowing lowly to the floor.

"Hey there Dobby, long time no see," said Harry, crouching down to meet his friend eye-to-eye.

"You remember Ron and Hermione don't you?" asked Harry, motioning behind him, "and I'd like you to meet someone, this is Catalina."

"Hello there," she said, still standing next to Ron.

Dobby bowed low to her and squeaked a warm welcome.

"Do you mind if I get a sandwich Dobby?" asked Harry.

Before he knew what was happening a tray of sandwiches had been pushed into his hands, all with various filling's and types of bread used. He wondered just how the elves managed to do that. He looked around and saw Hermione in deep discussion with a few elves, who looked slightly scared by her presence. Catalina sat down on the floor and took one of his sandwiches, shortly followed by Ron.

"Dobby heard tell that Harry Potter and his friends is leaving this school!" said Dobby in a strangely woebegone voice, "Dobby will miss Harry Potter sir!"

"It's only for two months Dobby," reassured Harry, "and then we'll be back."

"Dobby does hope so," said the elf, looking transformed at the news Harry wasn't emigrating. 

Hermione had returned back to the floor, looking strangely disheartened with her attempt to cause a coup in the castle for equal rights and fairer pay. She also took a sandwich, despite her earlier indignation of Harry's request and looked around suddenly.

"Where's Winky, Dobby?" she asked kindly, nibbling the corner of her coronation chicken sandwich.

"Alas, Dobby has put poor Winky in the Room of Requirement," he told them all, his ears drooping sadly, "she has been at the butterbeer again!"

"The Room of Requirement?" asked Ron, "what's that?"

"A hidden chamber in the school - it gives whatever the user needs the most. Winky is sleeping off her hangover there in a nice comfy bed," said Dobby, carefully tidying around the seat usually occupied by Winky near the fire.

"She's still drinking then?" asked Hermione, looking even more dispirited.

"Yes. Dobby did hope that Winky would get better with time as," and at this point he lowered his voice and head towards them conspirationally, "Dobby _does_ like Winky."

Harry attempted to hide a smile by taking a large bite out of his sandwich and raised an amused eyebrow at Catalina, who had been following the conversation avidly. She forced a straight face and looked at the house-elf kindly.

"Have you told Winky that you like her?" she asked as if she were speaking to a toddler.

"Well no, miss," he said speaking even lower now so they all had to lean in, "Dobby does not know how…"

"Seems common these days," muttered Ron, who suffered a glare from Harry.

"Well Dobby, maybe you should giver her a present, something she would really like," suggested Hermione helpfully.

"Winky is needing some new dishcloths," he said excitedly, nearly toppling over in his haste to speak, "would that do?"

"Erm no Dobby," said Hermione gently as the other three sniggered, "maybe something a little more…romantic?"

"Romantic?" asked the elf, sounding puzzled.

"Flowers," Catalina told him, "or chocolates. Something pretty she can keep."

"Something pretty…" he said in a faraway voice, before turning his orb-like eyes to Harry, "and this will work for Dobby?"

"I wouldn't ask him Dobby, his track-record isn't perfect," laughed Ron, earning an elbow in the side from Harry.

"Yes it'll work Dobby," said Harry, gritting his teeth and glaring at Ron pointedly, who merely tried to hold back the sniggers.

"You is all helping Dobby very much!" exclaimed the house-elf happily, "Dobby will not forget!"

"That sounds ominous," Ron muttered to Harry as they made to leave, wading through the sea of elves who were all offering food.

Ron's eyes were clearly bigger than his stomach and he took a large handful of cakes as Hermione whispered messages of support to various elves, who were pointedly looking the other way. Catalina however was walking through their midst looking unconcerned, accepting a cake without even acknowledging the elf. Harry closed the door behind him, and spent a fruitful few minutes eating his cakes, feeling fuller than he had for some time.

"I think it's scandalous that Hogwarts is still refusing to pay the house-elves," Hermione was saying in a clear voice beside Harry.

"Hmm…scandalous," agreed Ron, more interested in his chocolate éclair.

"It's glorified slavery!" she continued to rant, "in the muggle world that's been abolished over a hundred years ago!"

"Yeah…abolished," said Ron, with a cream moustache.

"Imagine, bossing around some poor defenceless creature who has been brainwashed into thinking they are subservient to humans!" she said, gesticulating wildly, and causing Harry to duck slightly.

"Brainwashed…totally," supplied Ron.

"Will you stop doing that!" said Hermione irritably, giving him a glare, "if you don't agree with what I'm saying at least don't make fun of it!"

"I'm not making fun of it," said Ron despairingly, "it's just, you don't understand - they _want_ to do the work, I've been telling you for years!"

"And I've been telling _you _for years, slavery is wrong!" she argued, going quite red in the face.

Harry shot Catalina a warning look as she watched them with a carefully blank expression, carefully licking the chocolate off her fingers.

"Well if slavery is so wrong, why don't you make your own beds and cook your own meals?" pointed out Ron.

He had guts, you had to give him that.

"I can't believe you are being so…so…_narrow _minded! You can't even see my side of things can you?" she practically yelled, before whipping around the Harry and Catalina.

"You think it's wrong don't you Harry?" she demanded, looking quite scary.

"Well…I suppose -" he began hesitantly.

"And you Catalina?" she appealed, obviously hearing enough of Harry's answer, "you think it's wrong don't you?"

"No," she said calmly.

"Thank you -" she said, nodding her head fervently, before stopping and staring at her, "WHAT?"

"I said, no, I don't think it's wrong," repeated Catalina.

Ron and Harry took a step back.

"How can you say that!?" exploded Hermione.

"It's their job, Hermione, that's what they're born to do," she said, seemingly unconcerned at Hermione's steadily flushing face.

"It's brainwashing," she said through clenched teeth.

"No, it's inbred. Wizards have always had house-elves," she said, shrugging, "I bet Harry's family used to have one, we certainly always had one. And I bet Ron's family would _like _one."

"And that makes it right?" she said, outraged.

Catalina merely shrugged and Harry found himself wondering whether his mum and dad really did have a house-elf. They probably did he decided, what with all their gold they had, the Potter's had probably always had house-elves. He however didn't think he'd ever want one, not with him knowing Dobby and Winky as he did. He didn't like giving orders to anyone. 

Meanwhile the argument was still raging, on Hermione's part anyway, and Ron and Harry watched as if they were following a tennis match, looking from side to side in awe. 

"See, it's outdated thinking like yours," she said, pointing a shaking finger to Catalina, "and yours Ron that means another generation of the wizarding world will grow up thinking it's ok to enslave these poor defenceless creatures! You two are just…just…"

"Just telling you the truth Hermione," said Catalina, still calm as millpond, "if they didn't serve what would they do?"

"They can still serve, they should just be treated more fairly! Get given sick pay, and holiday pay, day's off, pay even."

"They wouldn't take it," she told her, as Ron nodded fervently, he'd said the same thing _years _ago.

"See…this is what I'm talking about!" continued Hermione, obviously feeling her point had been proven totally, "you and Ron are just the same! You both think there's nothing wrong with it at all! Its brainwashing I tell you! I blame the upbringing, oh I do. It's bad parenting! I blame the parents for not teaching their children -"

"Hey," cut in Catalina, suddenly sounding harsh, "It's ok to have an opinion, but don't start insulting people just because you can't see the flip side of the coin!"

Harry and Ron shared an uneasy glance, Harry sensed that Hermione could maybe chosen her wording a little better about parents, especially in light of recent events. She seemed to have realised this as well, and her angry disposition disappeared quickly and she had the decency to look ashamed.

"Oh Catalina, I'm sorry," she said at once, "I didn't mean anything against your -"

"It's fine," she snapped in an aggrieved voice, climbing through the portrait quickly.

"Well done," said Ron under his breath, so only Harry heard.

"Please," she said, sounding quite tearful at her blunder, "I'm really sorry! I'm sure your parents we're really -"

"Hermione," she growled warningly.

"Sorry," Hermione said meekly, "I didn't mean to offend your -"

"Say one more word, _one more_," threatened Catalina, "and I'll hex you seven ways till Sunday."

"I -" began Hermione, looking even more upset.

"Drop it Hermione," said Harry, pushing between the two and pulling Catalina over to their seats by the fire.

She made as if to say something else and Ron also took her by the arm and place her in the seat with a stern look. There was a long tense silence as they all rooted around in their bags for their homework books and parchment's. Harry was slightly worried to see Catalina had a particularly evil look on her face and he could tell she was stewing over what Hermione's words had reminded her of. 

Hermione still looked on the verge of trying to apologise.

In fact she was just opening her mouth, rather unwisely in Harry and Ron's opinion, to try again when Catalina caught sight of it.

"Shut up!" she hissed furiously and Hermione's mouth snapped closed.

She looked on the verge of tears and an extremely strained minute of unfolding parchments and inking quills followed in which everyone tried to ignore Hermione's sniffles. It was unbearable.

"I think I'm going to hit the showers," she Catalina suddenly, already up and away from the sofa before they could reply.

They waited until she was safely out of earshot before Ron and Harry turned to her with a glare.

"Hermione," hissed Harry, "can you say insensitive any louder?"

"I'm sorry!" she moaned, face in her hands, "I didn't mean…You know I didn't mean her parents in particular!"

"Well it didn't sound like that," whispered Ron, gaze darting over to the dorm staircase to check she wasn't around.

"I know, I know," she said, sounding anguished, "but I didn't mean it! And you've got to admit, she has a very pure-blooded type view on the matter -"

"Don't start on the house-elves again," begged Harry wearily, "what's it to you if she has a different opinion?"

Hermione sensibly held her tongue and Harry gave her one last stern look before settling down to his work. He had to write Flitwick's Vanishing Charm essay he'd been too busy to write in this morning's lesson. He was halfway through writing out the title to his essay when there was a sudden red glow in the air. He looked up to see a letter frozen about eye height in front of him, which ceased to glow and began to drop to the floor. He reached out a grabbed hold of it before it hit the table, merely as a reflex action. 

The others looked at it with suspicion, and Harry flipped it over to see the words, 'Catalina Firelight' written on in curling green script.

"It's for Catalina," said Harry blankly.

"Who do you think it's off?" asked Ron curiously as Harry flipped it over and shook it experimentally.

"No idea," he said slowly, "I guess I'll leave it for her to open…?"

"Yeah, I should," agreed Hermione.

They all went back to their work, taking occasional sneak glances at the letter, as if it was about to burst into flames or begin a song and dance routine. Catalina didn't return for nearly an hour, a long shower indeed, but Harry knew she wasn't really just having a shower. She had been crying, he could tell almost instantly after she'd been gone for about ten minutes, he felt her sadness and anger all mixed up into one. He supposed her self-made promise not to cry any more about these things didn't stretch as far as the shower. But he doubted she'd show any sign of it when she returned, or even of her argument with Hermione, and sure enough when she sat back in the seat next to Harry silently, she gave them all a small smile.

"There's a letter for you," said Hermione timidly, pointing at the envelope lying on the side of the desk.

"Oh," she said blankly, picking it up and casting an eye over the address, "I wonder who it's from…"

She unsealed it and Harry watched out of the corner of his eye as she slipped out the parchment, eyes darting to the bottom for the sender. Her eyes widened with recognition and she sat back to read it. Harry forgot all pretence of working and watched her, as did Hermione and Ron eventually, waiting for her verdict.

She finished it, and with a slight frown laid it down on the table.

"Well," demanded Harry after she said nothing, "who's it from?"

"A friend of my mama's in Russia," she said, looking confused, "she said she couldn't come to the funeral and was very sorry and for me to give my regards to my father."

"Really?" asked Harry, picking up the letter and casting an eye over it.

It was pointless however as it was written in the same curling green script, but entirely in Russian. Harry stared at the foreign words and even letters for some time trying to make heads or tails of it before giving up. He wasn't even sure if he was holding it the right way around or not.

"I guess Dumbledore must have sent out the invitations already," offered Ron.

"Yeah, I guess," she said, before taking the letter from Harry's hand and reading through it once more as fast as she would an English textbook.

Harry was secretly very impressed at her ability, without even the use of a language charm but didn't say anything, it didn't seem very appropriate somehow. He was about to say something else when another letter appeared mid-air, he snatched it and checked the address before handing it over to her.

He leaned over her shoulder as she read it, but again couldn't understand or recognise the language, though she seemed to.

"Well, they're coming," she said, laying it down next to the other one.

"What time do we leave?" asked Hermione curiously, but in a timid voice that wasn't quite sure whether she was forgiven or even allowed to speak.

"Twelve," Harry told her, and when she gave him a surprised look, hastily informed her that, "Dumbledore told me earlier. In his office at twelve to use the floo network."

They didn't say anything for a while, in which two more letters appeared and were quickly read. Catalina finally disappeared off to bed sounding quite despondent and sad for the first time since she'd returned. Harry was quite shocked as he was usually used to her hiding everything behind a sunny façade, or at least to Ron and Hermione.

Harry received two more letters before he went to bed, guessing they were coming to him as he was the one who had sent them with Professor McGonagall, wondering vaguely if she was being pestered by them too.

Apparently she was, she turned up a breakfast with an armful of envelopes, which she handed to Catalina wordlessly. Harry also had a bag full of them, waking up that morning to find them dumped at the foot of his bed as if Christmas had come early.

Catalina sighed heavily at the sight of them, and began to open them one-by-one, unable to ask for the others help as they were unable to understand most of them. She had nearly finished the pile McGonagall gave her when Harry sheepishly showed her his over brimming bag.

"I'll be here all day," she moaned, before waving an irritable hand over the letters with a few muttered words.

They leapt out of his bag and neatly stacked themselves on the table in front of them - she picked them up and slipped them into her own bag.

"I'll sort them out at break," she muttered, reaching for the pumpkin juice as the people in the surrounding seats looked at her brimming bag in curiosity.

Just then another owl flew towards them and Catalina looked up incredulously, "Come on already! We don't know that many people!"

"It's addressed to both you and Harry," said Hermione, who had relieved the owl of its burden. 

"You open it," said Catalina dismissively with a wave, and Harry got the feeling it was probably still another funeral-related correspondence, since his name had been at the bottom of the letter, though he didn't tell her that.

Harry accepted the letter and flipped it over, surprised to see the Hogwarts crest on it. Frowning slightly, he looked up at the Head Table, which was almost empty now as the Professors were making their way down to their classrooms. He broke the seal and pulled out the small scrap of parchment, hoping it wasn't a detention notice.

His eyes scanned down to the signature.

"It's off Dumbledore," he said blankly and Catalina looked up from her toast in surprise.

"What's he want with us?" she said stupidly, before recovering slightly and giving a wry smile, "apart from the obvious."

"Not the obvious," Harry replied looking confused, "want's us all to meet him for a meeting, before taking part in some _experiments_."

Everyone's eyebrows shot up at this, and Harry looked at Catalina with a frown.

"All of us?" asked Ron, looking slightly worried.

"No, just me and Catalina," he said, re-reading the note, which was only one line long.

"What kind of experiments?" she asked, eyes narrowed suspiciously. 

"Doesn't say."

"Well it's obvious what they're for isn't it?" said Hermione, not looking worried at the letter and buttering her toast with every care.

They all turned to her expectantly. She continued buttering. 

"If you feel like sharing anytime soon?" said Ron peevishly when Hermione didn't continue.

"I will," she said, with a swift look at him before munching on her toast and taking ages to swallow, "come on guys, what have you two got that we haven't?"

"Media attention?" asked Catalina innocently.

"Apart from that," she smiled, looking like she was thoroughly enjoying her game.

"Under eight OWLS?" guessed Harry and Catalina gave him a look of surprise.

"_No_," sighed Hermione, "Magus powers ring any bells?"

"Oh," said Harry leaning bag on his chair, "oh, right…"

"I wonder what kind of experiments…" began Ron, looking confused.

"Who knows," shrugged Harry, "guessed we'll soon find out."

"Is that how many OWLS you got?" Catalina suddenly asked, completely side-tracked from the conversation everyone had been having.

"Uh-huh," mumbled Harry through a mouthful of soggy cereal.

"That's really good," she said, looking impressed as Harry flushed happily, "well done."

"I got eight too," cut in Ron cheekily holding up his hands waiting for the round of applause.

"That's fantastic Ron," chuckled Catalina, "how many did you get Hermione?"

"Ten," she said, looking slightly abashed, previous conversation forgotten.

"All O's," said Ron as well with a roll of his eyes, "she got _112% _in Charms! That's mathematically impossible, but does that stop her?"

"Stop gloating," said Harry, laughing at Ron's praise disguised as teasing.

"Hey Catalina," said Hermione suddenly, as if she'd suddenly remembered something, "what did you do about OWLS since you were, away, for the exams?"

Harry turned and looked at her expectantly, he'd completely forgotten she wasn't even present for the exams, and that he'd never even asked how she'd done. 

"I took them in St. Mungo's," she said unconcernedly.

"And…" prompted Harry when she didn't continue. 

"Oh come on Harry," she laughed with little trace of humour in her voice, "did I look in any state to take exams when I was there?"

There was a lingering silence in the air, and Catalina peeled the crusts of her toast. Harry remembered his visits to her in the hospital and shuddered.

"So…" said Ron slowly, "you didn't take them?"

"No, I took them," she said, giving another odd laugh, "It was the week they changed my medication and I had that allergic reaction to it…I collapsed in my Potions exams, threw up on my Charms examiner and knocked my Defence one out…I think they may have taken points off me for that…"

She gave another laugh.

"Freaked out in the rest of them and tried to escape during astronomy, so they wouldn't give me back my wand after that…not that I needed it, but you know."

Harry felt a little bit sick.

"So, you failed them all?" whispered Hermione in a horrified voice, looking as if all her worst fears had just come true, and, as Harry remembered Hermione boggart, he thought that maybe they had. 

"I got a D in potions," she said brightly, then held her hands up like Ron had, waiting for the applause, "smartly managed to wait until _after_ finishing my potion to fall unconscious…"

"But…But doesn't that stand for…" began Hermione.

"Dreadful? Yeah I know," she said, "but it was a pass, and a pass means you can continue to the next year, so…"

She gave a helpless shrug. 

"But that's…that's terrible," said Hermione before she could stop herself, looking as if she was in some kind of trance.

"Hermione!" said Ron indignantly.

"I think you'll find it's _Dreadful_," said Catalina, ignoring Ron, "Don't stress about it 'Mione, I'm not."

"Yes but…one D…" continued Hermione, "it's so unfair! You're the best in our year at Potions, and you're only second to Harry in Defence!"

"Not anymore," she said, "and anyway, you're top in potions, even if Snape won't admit it."

"Well…" she spluttered, looking outraged, "that doesn't matter, you're still good. Really good. How are you going to get a job with one OWL?"

"I don't know mama," she said with a smirk, "I'll just have to live off my wit and cunning I guess."

"Catalina!" wheedled Hermione, "Apply to retake them at the end of this year with the fifth years!"

"Hermione!" said Catalina in the same tone of voice, "we have NEWT modules at the same time and they're _much _more important than OWLS. Don't worry, I'll catch up. Don't make it an issue, it'll just make things worse."

"Well," frowned Hermione looking as if she was about to disagree and begin again when Ron cut her off.

"Time to get to Charms I'd say!" he said loudly, yanking her to her feet and Harry chuckled and shook his head.

They all abandoned their plates and picked up their bags, Catalina's bulging slightly at the seams with letters as they made their way out.

"So what do you reckon, now you know that I really am a dunce and not the smart gal you thought you knew?" she asked Harry cheekily, remembering he hadn't given his opinion yet.

"Oh I never thought you were smart," he joked, dodging her arm as she tried to wack him one, "_kidding_, kidding!"

"Ha ha," she said sarcastically, hefting her heavy bag up slightly.

"Being serious now, what do tests know?" he told her, wondering if her humour was just a cover for how bad she must have felt to have got the worst scores in the year, including Crabbe and Goyle.

"Yeah, what do tests know," she agreed with a half-hearted smile, then after a few moments, "Do you think I ought to retake them?"

"Like you said, NEWT's are more important," he said, "and you'll ace them."

She gave a slight smile and Harry, thinking maybe she was more upset than she'd let on, reached out and took her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. She looked slightly surprised but within milliseconds her fingers had laced into his own, fitting perfectly as if they'd been used to it for years.

"So, did you get any O's?" she asked him as they walked down the corridor, unaware of the quite open stares directed at them.

"In Defence," he said, flushing slightly, but looking proud nonetheless, "got a pass in Divination, big surprise, all the rest were E's, _including _Potions can you believe it?"

"Well, being able to stir your cauldron was beyond Snape's expectations," she joked, before sobering up, "but seriously, that's fantastic, how did you do so well?"

"You sound surprised," he laughed, "well, the exams were about four weeks after Riddle Manor, and because of all the attention everything got, I kind of just shut myself away with my textbooks, took my mind off things you know?"

She nodded heavily, thinking that while Harry was revising she had been sat in that cell, that same five by five trap of rotten, mouldy stone, walls covered in the scrawl of previous prisoners, scratched into the surface with the only tools they had, their own nails. Harry seemed to sense her despondency and gave her hand another squeeze, her eyes coming back into focus with tears in them.

"Here," he said, shaking the cuffs of his robe away from one hand.

She watched him with dulled eyes as he flicked his wrist in an odd movement she dimly recognised. There was a flash of white from beneath his fingers before he held something out to her.

"A beautiful flower for a beautiful girl."

Held out in his hand was a pure white lily and she gasped in awe. She didn't know what to say, and picked it up reverentially, not noticing Harry had a blush to rival Ron's thanks to his corny line.

"Harry…I - wow," she stuttered, examining the flower as a huge grin split across her face, "when did you learn to do that?!"

"A little while ago I guess," he shrugged, feeling embarrassed now.

"It's beautiful," she whispered, turning it over and examining, "a lily…how did you know I liked lilies?"

Catalina missed the pause he gave before answering, and when he did it was in a quieter tone, "I didn't know to be honest. I didn't know that…it was a, lily either, it's just what always comes out…"

"You must have a sixth sense," she laughed.

"It won't last long," he said grimly, and as soon as the words left his mouth the flower rapidly changed colour to a horrible brown before dropping and falling to the floor.

"Oh," she said, looking deeply disappointed, completely missing the look of Harry's face.

"It always dies," he told her as they approached the classroom door where everyone was waiting.

"Do it again for me quickly," she said, and he gladly obliged.

"No corny line this time," he said, recovering slightly, "just a flower I'm afraid."

"_Conservo_," she whispered, discreetly using her wandless magic as a white light settled on the flower.

They met up with Ron and Hermione at the door, who were chatting to Dean about the football match he was trying to organise. Hermione smiled dreamily at the flower, but continued listening to the boys' conversation as Catalina smelled to flower happily, every trace of her worries of exams or her thoughts about the past completely disappeared.

"What was the spell you did?" asked Harry for want of a better conversation topic.

"The preservation spell," she told him, still examining it closely, "it'll stay like this forever now."

She missed the slight sigh Harry gave at this.

That breaktime they found a sheltered alcove from the bitter wind and Catalina pulled out the pile, leaning against an ugly gargoyle as Harry sat down next to her. To his surprise Hermione and Ron wandered off and Harry had a sneaky feeling they were trying to give them special alone time, they were desperate for them to properly get together before they left on Sunday. Either that or he and Hermione wanted 'special alone time'. Harry tried not to dwell on this thought too much.

He let his attention wander as he watched the students on the grounds going about their normal lives as he tried to pull his robes as tightly as possible about his knees for warmth. He looked across to Catalina, who was frowning deeply at one letter, following the bizarre looking script with a finger from the right hand side of the page to the left. During their Charms lesson Flitwick had been called away to look after one of his House who had been in a rather unfortunate accident involving a mispronounced hex in Defence and the class hadn't bothered to do the work he'd set them. As such he, Ron, Dean and Seamus had spent the whole time discussing the Quidditch team and their chances whilst they were away in France and Poland at beating Slytherin. He hadn't noticed but Catalina had been talking to Lavender and Parvati (a fact he couldn't believe when she told him later as he thought they hated her) who'd shown her a special charm to plait her hair. She now had a long intricately woven plait hanging down her back, Harry's lily fastened at the bottom. He took his eyes away from it, he didn't know why but his heart ached when he looked at it.

Catalina got through about ten letters before she sighed and dropped one of them onto her lap.

"What's up?" asked Harry, noting she had tears in her eyes again.

She continued to stare at the page in front of her, apparently trying to get her emotions under control.

"Oh Harry," she said tearfully, "what am I going to tell them about Him?"

"Your father?" he asked, knowing full well who she was talking about.

"Yeah," she said sadly, "they'll want to know why he isn't there, what he's doing…What do I tell them?"

"I don't know," he told her truthfully, wondering why he hadn't thought of this himself.

She took another deep steadying breath and began to pack the letters back into her bag roughly. Harry watched from his seat next to her with a building sense of despair, she really wasn't handling this well at all. She'd been alright yesterday, but ever since last night she'd been emotional.

"It's all wrong!" she finally choked out, tugging on the straps of her bag which were twisted around it, "it's not supposed to be like this!"

"Catalina I -" began Harry, unsure of what to say but spared from thinking when she cut in.

"I don't want to go! We're just going to have to tell Dumbledore I'm not going to the funeral. It's a stupid idea anyway, I don't _care_ if she's dead," she spluttered, "_I don't care_!"

"We've been through this," said Harry patiently, feeling quite shocked by her outburst, "If you don't go, you'll regret it for the rest of your life."

"I won't," she cried, still battling with her bag with increasingly hysteria, "I can't stand there with all those people who'll be asking me questions constantly. Not after May, not after Hogsmeade…I can't."

She threw the bag down eventually and she put her head on her knees and began to cry. Harry felt in over his head and had no idea what to do, so merely wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder.

"Come on Catalina," he said worriedly, trying to appear jovial and failing miserably, "me, Ron and Hermione will be there ok…we'll help you get through it…"

She said something, but it was lost on him as it sounded like a mix between and gurgle and a sniffle with a bit of choking mixed in. Harry looked around desperately for help but Ron and especially Hermione was nowhere in sight. They sat like that for about two or three minutes and Harry finally heard her give a sniff.

"Sorry," she muttered, rubbing her red eyes with the hem of her robes, "I feel like such a whinger."

"It's been a long week," he said quietly, "I think you have cause to."

She gave a watery laugh and he fixed her with a worried look, she was frantically rubbing her face with her hands, still quite obviously crying, but making like she wasn't. 

"I was fine this morning," she muttered to herself, "what's _wrong_ with me?"

She had returned back to the bag for the second round and Harry watched mutely as she frantically tugged the twisted straps, becoming increasingly more upset and frequent in her curses until she jumped up, kicked the bag away with a foreign curse and stormed off. 

He seriously debated whether he should have gone after her, but felt that maybe the reason she ran off was because she didn't actually _want _to talk to him about it, and decided to leave her. He wondered seriously about what she'd said. She was right, everyone would want to know where her father was, people who didn't know anything about the news in England, they'd also wanted to know how Catalina's mum had died, which also wasn't an easy question to answer.

Ron and Hermione turned up a few minutes before the bell went off and looked around blankly.

"Where is she?" asked Ron, as Hermione looked down at Catalina's broken bag and glanced around quickly.

"Gone for a walk," said Harry.

"Ah," he said, lowering himself onto the paving slab next to Harry, "she's been in a weird one today eh?"

"Hmm," agreed Harry, arms wrapped around his knees tightly as he chewed on a nail, "definitely a weird one."

"I think maybe the other day has just hit her," supplied Hermione, conjuring up a warm fire for them that they quickly shuffled around to hide from view, "what with her mum, the funeral and his reappearance…I'm surprised it's taken this long."

Harry didn't say anything, merely nodded in agreement. They only had a few more minutes before next lesson and Hermione was pulling out her textbook to do some prior revision.

"She doesn't want to go to the funeral," said Harry a while later, still staring at the fire.

Hermione looked up and gave him a characteristic look. She carefully folded the book together and stared at the fire as well.

"Why?" asked Ron looking confused.

"It's not because she doesn't love her mum if that's what you're thinking," Harry said defensively, not sure if this was actually true.

"It's because she's ashamed," said Hermione in a far off voice, "she's ashamed to have to face all those people from the past and have to tell them what's happened isn't it?"

Harry was about to agree, feeling he shouldn't have been too shocked at Hermione's perceptiveness when Ron stood up quickly.

"I'm going to kill her!" he growled angrily, stalking off across the grounds towards two figures.

Hermione and Harry shared a bewildered look and jumped up and ran after him, and Harry looked ahead to see Catalina talking to someone. He couldn't understand the reasons for Ron's behaviour until he saw _who _she was talking too.

"Ginny!" Ron bellowed, "Oi, Ginny!"

"Ron, wait," began Harry, sensing a gross misjudgement was on the cards.

They had meanwhile caught up with the two who both looked as confused as each other, Catalina more so though, looking red in the eyes and slightly out of it. Ginny had in her hands a small package that she was now trying to hide surreptitiously behind her back.

"What have I told you about this?" demanded Ron angrily, grabbing hold of his sisters elbow and pulling her backwards.

"What?" Ginny was saying in confusion as she was dragged along, "no, wait Ron, I'm not being mean or anything! I'm just -"

"Save it little sis," he said, still leading her off as Catalina made a silent protestation, seemingly not quite up to speed with the rest of them.

"Ron," she pleaded, a little more angrily this time as she struggled against him, "let me go!"

"I told you not to pester her anymore Gin," he said, carrying on regardless as his sister kicked him in the shins.

"Actually Ron, I think maybe -" began Harry, sensing maybe this was the apology Ron's sister had been working up to.

"Get off me you great big prat!" Ginny shouted, twisting out of his grip and stumbling slightly.

She stood up straight and brushed off her robes in a dignified way. She caught Harry's eye briefly, and gave him a look that he knew meant she was in fact here for the apology not to bully Catalina, hugging the small package to her chest.

"I only wanted to -" she tried before glaring angrily at Ron, who was giving her a warning look, and gave a huff, "Fine. It doesn't matter."

With that she turned on her heel and walked off and Ron was left to glare after her.

"I've gotta do something about that girl," he said, shaking his head.

Harry was about to tell Ron about what was really happening when the bell went. They all trooped in and Harry handed Catalina her bag wordlessly as Hermione rushed forward and angrily informed Ron on what Ginny was actually up to.

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AN/ Well then, another few weeks go by, another few pages of words! Sorry about the delay as usual, it's exam time across the country at the moment and I'm sure most of you should be REVISING, like me (not!). Hope you liked this chapter, any ideas/suggestions/queries/hates/loves ETC there is this little button labeled 'review' you might find useful!

Good luck everyone!

**athenakitty** - The question mistress is back! Yes Catalina is going against her lovely family, and I can't tell you the fate of Mr Firelight, you'll just have to wait and see. Who knows if they find a way to get rid of Catalina's dark mark, and doesn't his plans always go a little screwy?

**Dragongirl14**- I'm glad you like Catalina, I think a lot of readers have a bit of a problem with her character so it's great to meet a fellow fan! I like the fact you missed Catalina in the actual fifth book! That's is so something I would do! Glad you like the plot and that your waiting impatiently for this next chapter!

**GLowStick** - Thanks for the review - and well done on knowing the riddle! 

**goldensnitch3** - Hello again! Congrats on getting the answer to the riddle right you crazy one! Love the excess use of the YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYA keys!

**Juniper Kiayla** - Another new reader of BOTH stories!? You must be made to want to keep reading lols! But I don't blame you for not wanting to review every single chapter! As to the IMS quill, I love that idea and Hermione's little ramble about it made me snigger out loud to (bad form laughing at your own jokes, but you know!) And the timescape I like too (god, I am blowing my own trumpet today! Sorry!) and the time lag, I like limiting stuff in this so it doesn't seem too unbelievable (we're talking about witches and brooms and I'm using the word unbelievable?!)

I know what you mean about H/C finally getting together, although what went before was necessary you're right -time to cut them some slack! I really liked your analysis of their characters together, it made lots of sense and you've managed to say in one paragraph what its taken me 28 chapter to say!

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Keldore - Thanks for the review, I'm glad you like the story so far!

**mrs-osborne's-class** - Thanks for the lovely review - I know what you mean, when I look back at my prequel I just have to laugh - it's so bad! And I can see definite room for improvement in this one too! Less rambling for a start…I'm glad you liked the last chapter and the introduction of the Timescape, I could have such fun with that!

**Nasser Himura** - I know what you mean! After so long seeing them edge around each other to actually see action sort of shocks you! It's even harder to write. It would be cool to see Harry and Catalina timescaping, but we'll have to wait and see. Powerful but weak is an excellent way to view them, they are still young. But we'll see…

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FrostWing - Congratulations, you're one of four people I think who go the answer to the riddle - five points to the house of your choice!

**nyermen** - aha! Guilty as charged, yes I am a fan of Red Dwarf, and I didn't realise how much of it I'd put in here! Its all subconscious! Well at least I wasn't doing Brecon Beacons, more static caravan in rain, but you know! Wales is all the same to me! Hehehe, thanks for the review! P.s - it was Rimmer lols.

**Pheonixdor Dragonclaw** - aha - finally someone who knew the answer to the riddle -junk e-mails are great aren't they! Thanks for the review!

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Randomreaderguy - Thank you so much for declaring this story spiffalicious, I think that's the first time I've been accused of that! Lols. I know what you man about being engrossed in stories you find on here, I spend hours up reading! Sorry about having to wait for an update, I have a lot of work to do with my uni course and my writing (unfortunately) has to take a back seat to my work! As to the riddle - don't worry, I didn't get it until I was told the answer either! The red letters is a sort of sub-plot which I tend to drop in every so often to remind people about - so don't worry it'll be becoming more important as time goes on! You're a very astute reader - do you know that? You pick up on a lot of key stuff that I think people miss! As to how long this stories going to be, God only knows! I haven't got a rigid structure sorted out so it might to carry on indefinitely…

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Rich - Hey there again - thanks for the review! I'm glad you liked the whole timetravel/timescape idea, I've been really interested in time travel for years - especially after reading Steven Hawkings books recently! As to the new scar, plot spoiler - can't say much here, but your right, one more reason to be glad to see the back of Firelight! Thanks for taking the time out to read, hope your exams go well, that's the whole reason it takes me so long to get these chapters written and up - too busy revising and going to lectures etc!

**Rini Sayian-jin** - Ahhh, a little bit of romance at the end of the chapter (not to soon I might add). And as the author of the red letters, well you'll just have to wait and see! I like the IMS quill too, don't know if it would be possible in JK's world but what the hell, its mine now (cue evil laughter). Anywho, feel free to use it in any story you like! As long as you link me so I can read it to and pay back the reviews!


	30. Things Seen and Things Unseen

Chapter Twenty Nine   
Things Hidden and Things Seen  
  
"The purpose of this meeting Harry, is to better understand the emotional and magical connection you share with Catalina after the events of last Halloween."  
  
Dumbledore was regarding Harry seriously over the rim of his spectacles, before shifting his gaze to Catalina. They were sat within a large semicircle of chairs surrounding the headmasters desk with members from the Order. Having just finished another meeting on the imminent trips abroad the discussion had turned to Dumbledore's intentions from the owl he'd sent them that morning.  
  
"This will involve a few tester charms being cast on you, including ones that will monitor brain activity during certain activities I want to you to perform for us, do you understand?" he asked both Harry and Catalina, leaning forward and peering at them even closer than before.  
  
Harry shrugged, "That sounds fine," he said slightly uncertainly, looking over to Catalina questioningly, as did the rest of the rooms occupants.  
  
"Why?" was all she said.  
  
Harry couldn't help but sigh inwardly and shot her a warning glance. However, after a moment he turned to Dumbledore, feeling that it might actually have been a very good question. He was sure that for a moment that Dumbledore almost looked surprised at her question, yet covered it up magnificently with a warm smile.  
  
"We need to assess your abilities so we can help you develop them further," he told her, holding eye contact for a few moments before turning to Harry, "you are both targets of Voldemort and his followers now."  
  
Harry nodded again, feeling that this was all he was good for, it seemed like a reasonable enough request. He caught Sirius's gaze, who was smiling encouragingly and quickly checked everyone else, who all looked comforting and sincere, including Remus. Hermione looked only curious and when he met Ron's eyes, he only gave a little shrug and a raised eyebrow.  
  
"What sort of tester charms?" Catalina suddenly asked, to Harry's mind, slightly suspiciously.  
  
He noticed Dumbledore's smile flicker briefly, and Sirius was regarding Catalina steadily, in an almost calculating sort of way.  
  
"We need to test the emotional connection and its strength," began Dumbledore, patiently beginning to outline the days work, before Catalina cut in.  
  
"How are you going to know?" she said, looking mistrustful.  
  
"I'm sorry?" asked Dumbledore, looking slightly taken aback at her tone.  
  
"Well, how are you going to tell if the connections working, you're going to give us a dose of whatever emotion you want and then what?" she asked, leaning forward in her chair, "see if we both laugh?"  
  
Harry again found this a valid question, though he maybe would have phrased it differently, yet he was surprised by Dumbledore's reaction once again. He looked almost proud for a second at her prodding into his business, as if she'd just reacted in the exact way he wanted her too, as if he'd almost expected it.  
  
"It will require some level of access on my part into your thoughts," he said graciously, and Harry paused for a second, not liking the sound of that.  
  
Indeed Hermione looked puzzled and Sirius had a look on his face that said he wished she hadn't asked that question because he hadn't wanted them to know the answer.  
  
"Legibilis," said Catalina, her arms folded.  
  
Again, Dumbledore's face flickered with the briefest of looks of surprise.  
  
"On a very small scale," he replied.  
  
Harry didn't know what Catalina had called it, but in his head it sounded like mind reading. He looked to Sirius for guidance, who was giving him his most encouraging look, then to Catalina, who was staring stoically at the corner of Dumbledore's desk, obviously in deep thought.  
  
"You know I would not ask you to partake in such a thing unless it is absolutely necessary. For you to be prepared for whatever comes your way, and it will undoubtedly do so, we need to know how both your physical, metal and magical psyche is going to react to certain things," explained Dumbledore, "and I'm sure you will both sleep more soundly at night knowing the full extent of your combined powers."  
  
"Right," nodded Harry slowly, looking over to Catalina, who was also nodding her head, but looking pensive.  
  
"We will of course give you complete privacy if you desire," added Dumbledore, looking to the other Order members who were already nodding in agreement.  
  
"Yes please," said Catalina, as Harry struggled on in the wake on the discussion, feeling slightly dazed.  
  
"In that case, I will ask you all to reconvene here tonight at 8 p.m.," said Dumbledore, standing up with the rest of the Order member who were already making there way over to him.  
  
Whatever other instruction he gave out Harry didn't hear, because in the rise in the hubbub of general conversation, Catalina leaned over to him to whisper in her ear.  
  
"He's going to read our minds," she whispered so quietly he strained to hear her at even that close proximity, "Harry, whatever you do, don't let him find out about stuff, ok?"  
  
"What kind of stuff?" he asked, looking panicked.  
  
"I don't know, everything..." she said desperately, "but especially not about me on the Astronomy Tower ok? Or my mamas box...but especially not the tower."  
  
"Of course," he replied in a low voice, looking around and checking who was in earshot, "how do I do that?"  
  
"But a block on it, pretend it isn't there, build a wall in your mind if you have to. Just don't let him find out," she whispered hurriedly as people began to line up at the fireplace and disappear, "You know when you look into some peoples eyes, and there's just nothing there? That's because they have a block there, and everything's pushed well behind it...try and imagine that. In fact I think it's going to be better all round if we try to downplay this as much as possible. Try not to let them find out too much about the connection OK?"  
  
"Why?" he murmured, waving jovially to one of the Order members who was just departing, "this is Dumbledore, we can trust him."  
  
"I don't think they should know to much about our powers," she told him, looking flustered and anxious, "have you ever thought that maybe he sees us as a...weapon?"  
  
Harry paled visibly at this - did Catalina know about the prophecy? He'd never told anyone about them - how could she suddenly know exactly what Dumbledore was planning? He couldn't get the words out right at that moment, but Catalina seemed to suddenly think better of what she said, dipping her head slightly in shame.  
  
"Forget what I just said," she muttered, before looking across to him intently, "I mean it when I say he going to read your mind though, he's going to see everything you're wearing out on your sleeve. He's going to see all the things that have been playing on your mind, everything you're trying to hide, everything," she said, sharing a meaningful look with him.  
  
"Are you sure?" he asked her, not liking to sound of that at all, especially if Dumbledore found out half the stuff he was keeping secret from him.  
  
"Positive," she continued quickly as now only a few people we left in the room, "just...just remember why you keep some of that stuff private OK?"  
  
He was surprised by her anxious tone and gave a slight start when she rested a hand on his arm for a few moments, an odd display of emotion he wasn't accustomed to her showing, especially not in company. But quick as it had come it had slipped away and she sat back in her seat, watching the proceedings silently.  
  
Worryingly, Harry found that the more he tried to think of the things he should be trying not to think about, the more he thought about them.  
  
His head hurt already.  
  
Meanwhile, Dumbledore was shaking hands with the last Order member, who was stepping into the flames and taking the quickest route back too the Ministry. He had noticed that as soon as he had begun to dismiss people Harry and Catalina had instantly begun to confer with each other in extremely hushed tones. As he turned to Remus and Sirius, inviting them to stay within the castle for the day to help strengthen the wards, he was focused almost entirely on the two teenagers in front of him.  
  
Their conversation was too quiet to be heard, and out of the corner of his eye he tried to study their body language to get some kind of hint. They were twisted around in the chairs to speak to each other, taking quick peaks to see who was watching, heads extremely close.  
  
Dumbledore gave an internal sigh, he would bet his last galleon on the fact that Catalina was now instructing Harry on a long list of thing he was going to have to block from the experiment. He was also willing to bet his last pair of socks that Harry would rather listen to her, and jeopardise the experiments, than listen to himself and give a true account of things.  
  
"I will call for you later this evening a perhaps we can take tea together," Dumbledore instructed Remus and Sirius, who were already ushering Ron and Hermione out of the room. He caught the look between Ron and Harry as they waved goodbye and smiled to himself, they always acted as if they'd done some grievously wrong in his presence.  
  
"Well, shall we begin?" said Dumbledore cheerfully when the door had shut with a soft click, "first I want you to relax for ten minutes, I have some music which might help."  
  
And with a wave of his hand orchestral music filled the air, and he settled back in his chair, regarding the two over steepled fingers. He used this time to collect his thoughts, he had grossly underestimated Catalina's abilities he admitted to himself, the girl had a knack for seeing what you didn't want her to see, and he was even more impressed by her behaviour during the musical interlude. Whereas Harry was quite obviously nervous and bored, fidgeting ceaselessly in his seat, she was becoming more and more calm and collected. Her eyes were firmly closed, and he knew this was because she was trying to avoid the eye contact needed for full immersion into the mind of the subject.  
  
Although he could perform this without eye contact, his abilities were greatly reduced and from Catalina he could sense only a feeling of building peace as she was expertly constructing a wall around her private thoughts. This he noticed with a slight amount of surprise and even alarm, she had obviously been subjected to this before to know her defences so well, but he also realised that she wasn't an expert at it, and was wasting valuable energy too soon.  
  
Harry was much easier to read, he looked over to the person sitting in front of him with the same grandfather-like feeling he'd got since he was reunited with the boy six years ago. Although he never made eye contact, Dumbledore knew this was just because he was uncomfortable and he sensed faint feelings radiating off him now, feelings of guilt and deceit mixed with confusion.  
  
Dumbledore noted with some satisfaction that Catalina's defences were beginning to weaken and both of the teenagers practically fell apart when his assistant for the experiments walked in. Professor Snape was looking as menacing as ever Dumbledore noted with a long-suffering sigh, and it was almost comical to see the way Harry had watched the man with total mistrust and almost a slight trace of fear, as if he already sensed his part in the experiments.  
  
It was more curious, yet worrying, Dumbledore noted, the way that Catalina's fingers were gripping the arms of her chair until they were white and if possible she had grown paler.  
  
"Excellent, we are all present and accounted for," said Dumbledore, standing up and clapping his hands, "now, firstly I wish to examine the emotional connection separately. Harry, if you would so kind as to sit here and I will just examine the surface of your mind as it were to find out where the connection resides, do you understand?"  
  
"Yes," he said, already getting up and sitting in front of him.  
  
Dumbledore smiled kindly, trying to put Harry at ease as he pulled out his wand, and quickly cast the spell, reminding the boy that eye-contact was imperative. Harry sat straight backed and stared at the headmaster as he gently eased himself into the boys mind.  
  
It was confusing to say the least, with different sections running thoughts and feelings that were trying to gain supremacy. He had never been in a mind so crammed full and gingerly he picked through the confusion, trying to locate the source of the emotional connection. Images began to present themselves in Dumbledore's mind of memories and thoughts Harry wasn't keeping tabs on, a young boy sitting in a tree, dog barking beneath, an owl bearing a letter, Lu Tze duelling with Harry, Catalina sitting on a workbench, hiding under an invisibility cloak with Ron and Hermione. Dumbledore carefully navigated his way towards an area of concentrated memory that had caught his eye, exploring it cautiously. The images from here began to flash past his own eyes quicker than he could register them, but he could feel the dark tone they'd taken, an ugly zigzag scar, a Death Eater mask, Voldemorts eyes, Catalina holding a knife...  
  
Dumbledore tried not to notice them stepping back a level so that he could get a more overall picture of Harry's mind. The first thing he noticed was an overpowering feeling that was present almost everywhere. There were many different avenues that this feeling took, but most of them lead to the same person and Dumbledore was quite surprised at the force of it, which was well defined and almost all consuming. At least now he understood to some small extent Harry's one track mind, but brushed all thought of this aside as he found the location of the connection. It appeared to him, if he had to put it into words, as a colourful ball of chains, nestling deep in one corner of his mind, so impossibly intertwined with everything around it that it could not be removed.  
  
With this in mind, Dumbledore gradually slid away from Harry's thoughts, settling back into his own chair. He thought about this for some time as Harry cleared his head, it was confusing to say the least having someone else prodding at your mind and after a while he looked over to Catalina.  
  
Dumbledore caught the slight nod she'd given him and the way they seemed to be holding a silent conversation. Professor Snape noticed too and raised an eyebrow at the headmaster.  
  
"All present and correct I hope?" joked Harry as Snape's lip curled slightly, looking like he desperately wanted to say something.  
  
"Yes," smiled Dumbledore warmly, "I found exactly what I was looking for."  
  
Harry shot him a pleased grin, turning to look at Catalina. It seemed to him that Harry was asking Catalina's opinion. She rolled her eyes at him.  
  
"And now if you don't mind Miss Firelight?" he asked, offering her an empty seat beside him.  
  
"But surely if you've found it in Harry's head it will be in exactly the same place for me?" she told him quickly, obviously the thought had just come to her, "what more would you learn?"  
  
Dumbledore admired her tenacity, she had obviously sensed how weak her block had become and was worried. He found he now wanted to know what secrets she held from them even more that meant this form of intrusion would be unimaginable, but admitted she was right, there was no need.  
  
"If you aren't comfortable with it, then we shall proceed," he told her, turning back to Harry, "Now I would like to measure the emotional connection and how it works. Professor Snape is going to stimulate an emotion within Catalina, and I will be monitoring your reactions Harry, do you understand?"  
  
Both teenagers nodded and Dumbledore watched as Catalina sat in front of Professor Snape, eyes constantly on the move until the time had come to connect. He saw Snape brandish his wand against the girl, who flinched more than she would have liked them all to see as he once again slid into Harry's mind, immediately finding the connection point and waiting. After a few seconds Dumbledore could see a rush of activity in Harry's mind, coinciding with Catalina bursting out laughing and Harry smiling faintly. He wasn't sure if the latter was because of the connection or if Harry was just grinning at her anyway.  
  
Satisfied with the result Dumbledore eased out of his mind for a second time, looking across to see Snape give him a small nod of the head and a calculating look, Catalina however, stared firmly at the ground, building up her defences again.  
  
"Excellent," said Dumbledore, leaning back in his chair as he mulled over his thoughts, "the connection has considerably weakened since its creation last year, and seems to be continually decreasing in size and potency. Within another year I doubt you'll even register it."  
  
"We knew that already," stated Catalina.  
  
Dumbledore sighed inwardly.  
  
"Well, I think it would be best now to do another quick test to make sure the connection runs both ways in the same manner," he said, motioning for Professor Snape to switch places with him.  
  
"It does," said Catalina quickly.  
  
"All the same, I just need to check," smiled the old man, trying to stamp down some authority.  
  
He seated across from the girl, who in her obvious panic and fluster was destroying her own mental block. Dumbledore leant forward and she flinched as he cast the spell on her, slipping into a mind very different from the previous one. Instead of the barrage of images he had witnessed in Harry's head, Catalina's mind was uncluttered, simple memories and thoughts being relayed to him as he wandered towards the base of the connection, immediately feeling the wall. It was shaky and he noted her panic as one or two memories slipped away from it.  
  
Then came the activity induced when Harry felt a sudden spasm of fear, taking them both by surprise and causing Catalina's wall to crumble. A sudden flurry of memories was thrown into Dumbledore's mind, a small boy on a toy broomstick, a dank, rotting room with scrawl across the wall, a black vase flying towards Harry, the view from the top of the astronomy tower, a coffin. Dumbledore tried to ease away from these, feeling slightly shocked as Catalina tried to claw back her barrier.  
  
There was a change in feeling as a romantic memory was replayed before she tried to cover this up, the image of a black crow replacing it, carrying a red envelope. With this image the connection was torn away, not by himself but by Catalina who had somehow managed to break eye contact and had fallen off the chair.  
  
She sat on the floor breathing deeply, holding her hand stubbornly across her eyes as Harry left his seat and helped pick her up. However, he found that when he did she was stoically looking anywhere but in people's eyes, and especially not at Dumbledore himself, who was watching her with a new found look of interest.  
  
"That had nothing to do with the experiment," she said in an angry voice, "this whole things just another plan to find out if I'm up to anything!"  
  
"There was a problem with the connection I admit," said Dumbledore in a soothing voice, "but your preoccupation with a mental block and the panic you induced during the experiment was not my doing."  
  
"Fine," she said, sitting in her chair and rubbing her knee angrily, "I'm not taking part anymore. I'll do the experiments but I'm not being Read."  
  
"I see," said Dumbledore heavily, not expecting anything less, "Most of the experiments from now on are based on Harry's magus powers anyway. If you would like to begin..."  
  
Harry was exhausted, Dumbledore had prodded and poked at his abilities for over an hour before he finally seemed satisfied. He had allowed them to leave for dinner as he 'thought things through', promising to get back to them later on that evening. Harry rubbed his head slightly, annoyed at the headache that had developed, carefully focussing on the moving stairs beneath his feet, lest he trip himself up.  
  
When the gargoyle closed behind him he turned to her expectantly waiting to hear her opinion on the experiments.  
  
"Well...?" he finally asked when she didn't speak.  
  
She opened her mouth to speak before snapping it shut again suddenly. He frowned at her as she turned around and looked at one of the paintings in which an elderly looking wizard was ambling through a battlefield, whistling a jaunty tune and admiring the scenery. She turned back to him and with a shake of her head and a roll of her eyes began to walk.  
  
"He's following us," she finally said as they walked down the corridor to the entrance hall.  
  
"Come in here," said Harry suddenly, dodging into an empty classroom.  
  
With a wave of his hand the lanterns leapt to life and he looked around for paintings. There were none, but to be sure he cast the Polish language charm over himself, and with a raised eyebrow she followed suit.  
  
"Ok..." he said, confident they could speak privately, "what did you think?"  
  
"Set-up," she said instantly, looking angry, "that's what I think. They set us up."  
  
"But it sounded like these experiments were viable," he said thoughtfully, remembering the way Sirius and Remus had endorsed them.  
  
"I don't care what their reasons were, they set us up, me up. He was deliberately picking through my memories!" she cried angrily, sitting down on a stool in a huff, "He made a beeline for my block and niggled and niggled at it until it completely broke! Him and Snape planned that"  
  
Harry pushed aside thoughts of defending Dumbledore, she wouldn't have listened and he thought she may well have a point, what better way to find out what she'd been up to lately.  
  
"I did have a feeling he was doing that with me too," he admitted finally, sitting on the desk in front of her.  
  
"Both of them," she spat angrily, "Snape was pretending he was doing one thing and really they were just prodding!"  
  
"What did he find out?" he asked her slightly anxiously, hoping she wouldn't realise he may have let slip more than she'd wanted him to.  
  
"Plenty," she said emphatically, before dropping her voice again into an angry whisper, "he saw Mikhail! My mama's coffin! My freak out at St Mungo's! My cell at Azkaban..."  
  
She dropped her face into her hands before running them back through her hair, "Things I don't want to remember."  
  
Harry gulped and in the few moments silence that followed he picked up a scrap of parchment on the desk and set about scrunching it up into different shapes.  
  
"Snape saw a lot of stuff I didn't want him to as well," he admitted finally, focussing intently on the parchment now.  
  
Catalina looked over to him silently, noticing for the first time he looked rather pale.  
  
"What like?" she asked, watching him carefully.  
  
Harry didn't reply for a long moment, obviously working out what he was going to say.  
  
"Stuff from before you were here," he said, transfiguring the parchment into a rubber ball and bouncing it on the floor, "and stuff from when I lived with the Dursley's."  
  
She was silent for a few moments.  
  
"Hermione told me they weren't very nice."  
  
"There's the understatement of the century," scoffed Harry angrily, bouncing the ball a little viciously now, "they were just...nasty. The muggle equivalent of the Malfoy's. Suburban Death Eaters."  
  
"What do you mean?" she asked him, quite aware that this was the first time Harry was opening up to her. It was true that they had a quite...intense relationship, they knew a lot of thing about each other, but she hadn't realised how one way it was until that moment, a year and a half and she'd never asked about the Dursley's.  
  
"All for the purification of the population," he said, somewhat bitterly, "thought that England belonged to people like them and that anyone of any race or colour that didn't belong here, didn't belong here. They were your run of the mill racist, classist and elitist snobs until they found out about the wizarding world and that opened a whole new can of worms..."  
  
"Is that why she hated your mom so much?" Catalina asked him.  
  
"Probably," he shrugged, bouncing the ball even harder this time.  
  
It caught the edge of the desk and bounced away under the tables with a clatter.  
  
"I'm glad you never had to meet them," he said after the lingering silence.  
  
He looked up at her from under her fringe, as if trying to judge how she'd taken the news of his family. They sounded like saints when you compared them to her own so he really needn't have worried.  
  
"The Death Eaters oppose all muggles, muggle-borns and muggle-lovers," she said, leaning back on her stool thoughtfully, "And people like the Dursley's oppose all magical folk and magic-related folk. Maybe all we need to do to fight this war is an army of Dursley's."  
  
The thought of Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and Dudley dressed in regimental outfits standing on the frontline armed only with a drill, a rolling pin and a bag of sweets loomed into Harry mind. He couldn't help but burst out laughing as he imagined Voldemort's face as his aunt screaming at him and calling him a 'freak'. Catalina grinned too, if only at the fact that Harry was smiling again.  
  
"It's funny how alike their ideas are," he said to her, as if only just realising the fact for himself, "why can't they see that it doesn't matter what label or blood you've got, you're still all the same?"  
  
"In the immortal words of Hermione, 'I blame the upringing'," said Catalina with a faint smile, "pure-blooded families are raised that way."  
  
"Yeah well, it's a stupid way," Harry complained, running his hand through his hair in frustration, "if only they'd just take notice of all this history we've got, both muggle and magical - all those wars about the same thing and people still can't get the message. And I don't buy this crap about 'upbringing'. People should know it's wrong, you don't have to be a genius to figure out all this pure-blooded stuff is a load of rubbish."  
  
"You're forgetting what I was like when I first moved here," said Catalina, looking slightly embarrassed, "when I rambled on to you in the train because I was going to meet a real live 'muggle-born' and how I'd never spoken to one before..."  
  
"That was just because of your schools before," he said dismissevely, "you never really thought you were better than any muggle-borns did you?"  
  
This was greeted by an uncomfortable silence on Catalina's part.  
  
"Did you?" prompted Harry incredulously.  
  
"Well maybe a little bit!" she admitted, before hastily adding, "but you don't know what it's like to be brought up your whole life having quality of blood being drummed into you, and rules of etiquette and family history and their views..."  
  
"That doesn't matter, surely you never felt that magical was any better than muggle?" he asked her in a loud voice.  
  
"Well, maybe! Muggles just seem so...stupid!" she said finally, slightly frustrated, "bumbling along their lives, making everything so hard for themselves!"  
  
"Stupid!" laughed Harry incredulously, "have you ever heard of a guy called Shakespeare?"  
  
"No," she said shrugging, "what's he got to do with anything?"  
  
Harry grinned widely at her, but merely shook his head, "It doesn't matter, I don't think you'd get it."  
  
"Get what?" she demanded to know, not liking the way he was insinuating she couldn't understand anything as simple as a muggle.  
  
"Don't worry, we have more important things to think about than muggle plays," he said, still smiling as if he had a secret joke to which he was only privy.  
  
"Your being deliberately obtuse aren't you?" she accused him, "now I want to know you aren't going to tell me!"  
  
"That's about the sum of it," he laughed, "ask Hermione if you're so curious as to what 'stupid muggles' get up to."  
  
"I wouldn't give you the satisfaction!" she said, but with a smile.  
  
"Back to top-secret, code-requiring talk anyway," said Harry, looking much more animated now, "we've managed so far to ascertain they wanted access to our memories. Question is, why?"  
  
"I thought maybe they wanted to see what I was up to," she began, with a look over to the door again, "but since they got to you too maybe I'm just overreacting."  
  
"I don't think we should rule it out," said Harry cautiously, "lets face it you and Dumbledore have never really seen eye to eye and I'm sure he couldn't help but pass up an opportunity to see what's been going on. He must hate not knowing what's been happening right under his nose."  
  
"So he was just taking the opportunity? Sort of like killing two birds with one stone..." she mused, "In that case, why the sudden interest in your powers, or mine for that matter - it's usually only the ministry which bothers with 'power quotients' and the like."  
  
Maybe you weren't far off with the weapon suggestion Harry thought anxiously.  
  
"He seemed much more interested in yours, didn't even notice I wasn't casting spells with you, just pretending. And then there's all this training he's got you doing, bringing Lu Tze over from China, extra classes almost every night. I thought we were being a bit pre-emptive with our own lessons we started, but he obviously wants you trained up for the war."  
  
Harry didn't say anything, hoping she wouldn't put two and two together and realise he was being trained up because, according to Dumbledore at least, he was the war.  
  
She was about to continue when Nearly Headless Nick glided through the blackboard, looking mildly surprised when he clapped eyes on the two of them, deep in discussion.  
  
"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," he said, putting the emphasis on 'anything' to make it sound as if they'd been up to no good.  
  
"Of course not Nick," said Harry in English with a grin at Catalina, "where you off to?"  
  
"Nowhere really, just felt like a wander. I do get awfully bored of watching people eat all the time," he said, giving a large yawn as if to prove the fact, "it is rather insensitive I feel."  
  
"Dinner!" was the response he got to this, as Harry looked at his watch and looked aghast, "we're going to miss it if we don't hurry!"  
  
He grabbed Catalina's hand and pulled her out of the classroom, waving goodbye to the ghost over their shoulders.  
  
"Insensitive," muttered Nick, shaking his head, which toppled precariously, but remained in place.  
  
Sirius fidgeted in his seat, he'd never got used to the fact he could sit in Dumbledore's office for any other reason than he was going to be told off. He guessed he was just a guilty person at heart and tried to think if he'd done anything wrong lately before reminding himself they were here to talk about Harry and Catalina, not him.  
  
He glanced over to Remus, who raised a questioning eyebrow before the door to the office opened and Dumbledore strode in, they both stood and waited for the old man to sink into his chair before they followed suit.  
  
"What did you find out?" asked Sirius instantly, forgetting the pleasantries and getting down to what he really wanted to hear.  
  
"Give him a chance Padfoot," said Remus in a low voice and Dumbledore leaned back in his chair thoughtfully and fixed them with a Look.  
  
"The experiments were not a complete success," began Dumbledore, "but we have managed to find some very useful information."  
  
"Such as?" pressed Sirius, leaning forward eagerly again.  
  
"Harry's powers are developing extremely well for a start," he told them with an almost proud twinkle in his eye, "Lu Tze agrees with me in that he's becoming far too advanced for his apparent level."  
  
"Really?" asked Sirius, trying hide not to sound too delighted at Harry's achievement.  
  
"Yes, his duelling skills, as always, are impeccable. He only began properly duelling with Lu Tze in training last week, yet he informs me that Harry has nearly beaten him on several occasions. Lu Tze feels that he is quickly catching up with Catalina's level in that department, though it somewhat lacking in other areas."  
  
"Well it's most important that he's good a duelling right?" Sirius asked them both, "and if he's on par with Catalina then that's good, right?"  
  
"Yes, it's good," laughed Dumbledore with a twinkle in his eye, "you can see first hand if you like, I have arranged to sit in on one of Harry's Magus practicals - he'll be duelling Catalina tonight."  
  
"Brilliant," grinned Sirius, punching Remus on the arm and giving a chuckle, "whose the best Godfather in the world?"  
  
"I think the credit may have to go to Lu Tze and Catalina for this one Padfoot," sighed Remus, as Dumbledore merely smiled, before hushing the two.  
  
"There is a few more matters to discuss," he went on and Sirius sat back and tried to look straight faced, "I said before we had some problems with the experiment. This was mainly due to Catalina-."  
  
He broke off as there was a knock at the door, and allowed them entrance. Sirius's eyes narrowed when he saw Snape stride in and throw a distasteful look at him, before settling into the chair next to Remus, who was looking calm.  
  
"Good evening Severus," he said pleasantly.  
  
"Lupin," replied Snape through gritted teeth, looking as if it cost him dearly not to say anything else.  
  
"Yes, good evening Professor," said Sirius mockingly.  
  
"Black," hissed Snape, eyes fixed firmly ahead as a small vein pounded in his temple.  
  
"Wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning Sev?" asked Sirius cheerfully, liking the fact that he was clearly on top of this conversation.  
  
"I would not know as I did not in fact go to sleep last night, some of us have important jobs to do," Snape said cuttingly and Sirius narrowed his eyes further, "and it does not look like I'll get much sleep tonight, what with your idiot godsons girlfriend hexing me like she has."  
  
"Catalina hexed you?" whooped Sirius, letting his reference to Harry slide by in the face of this wonderful news, "what's a matter, little sixth year too much for you to handle?"  
  
"Sirius," warned Dumbledore suddenly, causing the man to jump and shut his mouth straight away.  
  
Snape looked like he was ready to kill and rubbed his head angrily.  
  
"As I said before, Catalina caused us a certain amount of, shall we say difficulties, during the experiment."  
  
"How so Professor?" asked Remus, attempting to be the only mature of the three former students.  
  
"As you saw she had reservations about the experiment, which culminated in her building a mental block before we performed the charms," began Dumbledore.  
  
"Can she do that?" cut in Sirius suddenly, "how does she know how to do that?"  
  
"Do use your head Black," cut in Snape scathingly, "a powerful magus since the age of three with a father like Charles Firelight not being able to build a simple mental block? Your brain must be more addled than we already think if you cannot comprehend that."  
  
Sirius was about to furiously reply when Dumbledore held up a silencing hand.  
  
"Yes, Catalina was able to build the block - she has obviously had experience in this form of magic before, and I am not abashed to say I find that particularly worrying."  
  
Sirius took a moment to remember Dumbledore's views on Catalina, they had never been much more than lukewarm and though Sirius knew it was due to his reading into the prophecy of Amaris Milne, he had always been slightly troubled by it. Dumbledore was famous for taking everyone's side, giving second chances, yet he'd almost been reticent about Catalina. Though Sirius had only met her once, and felt the girl was quite clearly affected by the war so far, he didn't really dislike her in anyway. He chose to forget that she was Charles Firelight's daughter and see her for Harry's friend - a view that had taken a hard year to cultivate.  
  
"I'm afraid she made things rather difficult today," he continued however, with a slight sigh, "after one Reading she dropped her block, became flustered and refused to be read again. Like I said before, all very worrying"  
  
"Maybe she just doesn't like it?" suggested Remus, "I know I wouldn't like to be Read anymore than you would I'm sure."  
  
"Yes, I can understand why she would not want to partake in the experiment," began Snape, surprising Sirius by sticking up for Catalina, "the things she has suffered in the care of the Death Eaters during the day leading up to the Riddle Manor attack and the horrors of the war would be something she would not want to share with herself, let alone us."  
  
Everyone stared at him a few seconds, slightly taken aback at his defence of the Gryffindor and the mental images he had awakened of what might have happened. They had all lived through the last war, they knew what the Death Eaters were capable of with hostages.  
  
"Your theory was held up by the evidence," began Dumbledore, quieter now, "from both of them. In Harry's mind I saw flashes from the Riddle Manor Attack, especially those concerning Catalina, their confrontation and the stabbing and Voldemort of course."  
  
Sirius drew in a shaky breath, he sometimes wish he could obliterate whole chunks of his godsons memory if he thought it would mean he didn't have see those things again.  
  
"It was the same with Catalina, from inside her block came many images from that evening, and I must say I found quite a few of them disturbing in their nature," he said, the twinkle in his eyes gone now, looking only sad and empty.  
  
"Is she going to be alright?" asked Sirius after a moment, finding a new- found sense of compassion for the girl, "what with Mary gone now..."  
  
"She's been strong up until now," Dumbledore told him, "Harry is helping, more than I think either of them know, but things have been difficult this term. We managed to find out for instance, that Catalina attempted to commit suicide not one week ago."  
  
"What?" gasped Sirius, nearly falling out his chair in shock as Snape stared grimly ahead.  
  
He looked across to Remus in alarm, who looked almost as stricken.  
  
"Both their memories were trying hard to hide one certain memory on which their efforts dwelled so much it drew myself and Severus to them. It seems she tried to use the anti-depression potion Severus has been brewing since she got back to school, and which she was taking since she went to St. Mungo's, to overdose. They both replayed memories of an event last week by my calculations in which she took at least three of them before making her way to the Astronomy Tower."  
  
Sirius gave an involuntary shudder, his head was suddenly becoming a little to small to fit in all the thoughts and questions that had exploded in his head during the story. Catalina had tried to overdose, but she hadn't? Had Harry stopped her? What did he do? Why hadn't Harry told him about any of this?  
  
"We believe," said Snape suddenly, in quiet tones, "that she was attempting to jump, rather than become poisoned by the potion. We both saw her standing on the battlements."  
  
"Well, what happened?" pressed Sirius, feeling oddly dazed by the sudden turn in events, "how is she still here."  
  
"Harry stopped her," said Dumbledore simply.  
  
Sirius wanted to ask how, but felt his jaw had become stuck together with the severity of what had just been said. Another thought however popped into his head, which demanded immediate attention.  
  
"Is she stable enough to even go to Poland?" he asked, for the first time in his life actually wanting to hear Snape's thoughts on a matter.  
  
Dumbledore spread his hands on the desk and looked at the steadily, "Every part of me is saying no, she isn't strong enough, mentally or physically, especially after this week. But Professor Snape is going to change her daily potion, that should alleviate some of her symptoms, and we must trust that they can confide in each other and sort things out."  
  
"But surely sending her to Poland is the last thing she needs..." said Remus slowly, looking to Sirius for support, "if she's not stable..."  
  
"I'm afraid we must remember why we are sending them there. We need that information, there is no other way we can find out what the magical families are doing that we haven't already thought of and covered," said Dumbledore cautiously, "and we also know that Harry will not go if she does not, we understand their situation perfectly. And we all know the extent of her powers, and Harry's - they are the greatest weapon we are going to have. He is our only hope."  
  
Dumbledore's speech rang in the still air and the three men stared at the old professor. To Sirius it felt like the first time he could fully appreciate what Dumbledore was expecting of Harry, and of Catalina, and he didn't like it. Harry was his godson, he wasn't a weapon...He was sixteen years old Sirius told himself frantically, he's sixteen and they're expecting him to do this, be something none of them could comprehend. They were asking him to be a leader, a fighter, a saviour, and Harry was none of those things, he could never be any of those things because he didn't believe, he didn't want to know, he would never accept.  
  
"Because we all know that Harry is going to be the one to finish this war," Dumbledore told them, his eyes suddenly cold and frightening, "we know this. Whether he succeeds or not, the war will be over. If he does manage to destroy Voldemort forever, then the Phoenix will have won and we can all return to our lives. If he doesn't succeed, the war will still be over."  
  
"Because no-one, I repeat no-one, is strong enough to stop him. Magus powers at this point are meaningless, they're irrelevant. With or without them this would be his destiny. If he fails, the war will be over and the Dark Age will begin," said Dumbledore, the passion in his voice lessening now as he sat down heavily in his seat, not aware he had stood up, "and we cannot comprehend the horrors that will befall us."  
  
Sirius struggled to breath in the silence that rolled over them as Dumbledore finished, he didn't want to listen to the words, understand what it meant, what the sacrifice meant. Because as soon as he did it meant that he would have to accept that this was the way it was, the way it as going to be, there was no room for guessing. And by accepting that, it meant that he would have to accept this was Harry who would do these things, Harry who would have to commit murder, Harry who would seal the fate of wizardkind.  
  
"It's not fair," he murmured, feeling as if his words were coming from another mouth, hearing them as if he were underwater.  
  
He couldn't comprehend this, he wouldn't.  
  
"No, it is not," agreed Dumbledore heavily, rubbing the bridge of his nose wearily, "no, it's not fair, we all understand we are resigning Harry to a terrible future. But we cannot change it. This is fate. Destiny. This is what he was born to do."  
  
"You can't put this on the shoulders of a sixteen year old boy!"  
  
Sirius felt the words tumbling out his mouth before he could censor any of them, knowing it was futile and that Dumbledore would dismiss what he had to say. But he couldn't sit back and merely watch Harry's future be decided without a struggle. He knew that in some way it didn't need to be like this. Why only Harry?  
  
"Sirius-" Dumbledore had begun, holding up a hand, but for the first time in his life, Sirius overrode him.  
  
"He sixteen years old for Merlin's sake! He's not some powerful sorcerer, or a trained magus, he's not an auror! He barely scrapes through in half his lessons, he has nightmares every night about the things he's seen already! He collapses when he sees a dementor!" cried Sirius, unable to get the words out quick enough.  
  
"And yet he is able to win a duel against a magus who has been at full strength for 70 years and who had fought Dark Wizards himself," said Dumbledore quietly.  
  
"Lu Tze's magic is not the same as Voldemorts," Sirius told them all, gesticulating wildly, "he wouldn't throw an unforgivable at him, or cheat and use dirty, dark magic would he? He's too noble to use that kind of magic! Asking Harry to defeat Voldemort is asking the impossible!"  
  
"He's done it once before," Dumbledore continued, not affected by Sirius's building rage or the look of horror on Lupin's face, "he's defeated him once already."  
  
"Lily defeated him once already!" he yelled hoarsely, before instantly falling silent and breathing slightly raggedly.  
  
Remus was gripping the chair handles with white knuckles as Snape stared at the wall in front of him.  
  
"You and I both know that the self-sacrifice spell was only a part of the events that led to that night," said Dumbledore, his tone and eyes emotionless, "he has proved himself countless times since that night. From his very first year here he has proven himself, and with each year that passes he grows in strength and power. How many times does he need to prove to you that he can do this?"  
  
"How many times does he need to be tested to his limits to prove he can't," shot back Sirius, "he's just a child!"  
  
"He's far from a child Sirius and you know it," Dumbledore told him, "and for all the pleas in the world, for all your misgivings and arguments, it will never change the fact. That Harry was born to do this one task, and that when the war is over, only one of them will still be alive to reap the benefits."  
  
Sirius fell silent, what little colour was now in his face had drained away at this and he was left trembling in his seat. He knew it was right, he knew that was what was going to happen, yet he felt that by accepting it, he was signing Harry's death warrant.  
  
Because Dumbledore was right, at the wars ending, it was going to either Harry or Voldemort left standing. Only one of them would make it, and the odds weren't looking that great on his godson.  
  
Voldemort versus Harry Potter.  
  
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named against The-Boy-Who-Lived.  
  
The Dark Lord versus a sixteen year old boy...  
  
Sirius didn't think he could bear it.  
  
"I understand this is hard for you to accept," continued Dumbledore, in a much quieter voice now, "and perhaps you never will. But it is the way of things."  
  
Sirius nodded heavily, and looked across to Remus, who was sat straight backed and stiff as a board in his chair. He stared unseeingly ahead of him and Sirius knew exactly what he was thinking - what Lily and James would have said if they had been here now. What it would have done to them to see their son being discussed as if he were the latest new curse to come out of the Department for Experimental Magic.  
  
"Now, let us move on, we haven't got much time until his practical," said Dumbledore, gathering papers and shuffling them around, closing the topic as if had been nothing other than pre-meeting notices.  
  
"Everything is in place for their departure on Sunday. We have taught them everything we know, given them every help possible, the rest is up to them now. Professor Figg has done excellent groundwork in Beauxbaton's for Hermione and Ron to uptake, and our spy in the Polish Praetorian has just sent an updated file on school records..."  
  
Sirius's attention left the conversation, which had been carefully manoeuvred onto safe, normal topics, completely disregarding the way they had just been dealing with the way Harry might die. It was if they'd been talking about something entirely different, like he'd been privy to a different conversation to the rest of them. He shook his head wearily, wondering what Harry thought about the subject, whether he ever thought about it, or talked about it with the others.  
  
Whether they even knew.  
  
He must be scared, Sirius thought anxiously, he must be terrified about what was in store for him. How did he cope...how could he look at the world and not want to just end it right then and there, how could he just sit back and wait for Voldemort to come and find him?  
  
"We best be making our way down to the practical now," cut in a voice, disturbing his thoughts.  
  
Sirius looked up and noticed the others were preparing to leave, and climbed out of his chair heavily, following the other three out of the office and down the moving staircase. He didn't know if he could face seeing Harry now, not after what he'd just heard, not when he knew what was in store for him...how could he look him in the eyes?  
  
He became aware they had led him to one of the old dungeons, he used to have potions in here until a N.E.W.T experiment went terribly wrong and practically stripped the room of everything, including the students. He remembered it had been out of bounds, and that the Marauders had on several occasions broken in, just to admire the way the stonework had fused together to create a glass-like surface across the walls.  
  
It was for this reason it was an excellent place to practise duelling, highly reflective surfaces made for a much more interesting fight when you had to watch all around you for rebounding curses.  
  
As he walked in, Harry, who had been sitting with Catalina on the floor by one wall gave a wide grin and jumped up, rushing over to great him.  
  
"Sirius! What are you doing here?" he asked eagerly, before noticing Snape slide in as well causing his face to fall slightly, "what's happened?"  
  
"Nothings happened," laughed Sirius, his voice feeling wrong and unnatural with the thoughts that were running through his head, "we've come down to watch you duel."  
  
"Really? Why?" he said, before deciding it didn't matter and cheerfully waving to Remus who'd also just walked in, "I'm not very good by the way, I've only just started last week so I can't really do much-"  
  
"Liar," laughed a voice startlingly close to Sirius causing him to jump slightly, he hadn't seen the girl walk over to them, "don't listen to a word he says, he's just being modest and humble as usual."  
  
Sirius couldn't help but grin at the girl, who'd rolled her eyes and bobbed her tongue out at Harry who had shoved her slightly. He couldn't remember seeing Harry look so carefree as he did in those few seconds, making it all the more difficult for him to stomach Dumbledore's words earlier.  
  
"Catalina, it's good to see you again," said Sirius, trying to smile normally.  
  
"Yes, you too," she said, slightly awkwardly this time as if she'd just realised who she was talking too before she noticed Remus, "Hello...again."  
  
"Good evening," smiled Remus, grinning slightly at her obvious internal debate over how to address him, "how are you bearing up?"  
  
"Fine," she said stoically, reminding Sirius forcefully of Harry and he wondered if she'd picked that up off him, "It's been a bit of a long week."  
  
"I can imagine," he said sympathetically, noting the girls awkward stance and nervousness that had appeared, "we we're very sorry to hear about your mother, I remember her from school, she was always very kind to me."  
  
"Yeah, well - thanks," she said, face expressionless as she cast a look across to Harry, who seemed to step in for her instantly.  
  
"But I was being serious before, I'm not good at duelling yet, it's only been a few weeks and I've never done a practical with Catalina so..." shrugged Harry, "don't expect much."  
  
As soon as Harry had said it, Sirius had thought back to the Riddle Manor Attack. Like hell he'd never duelled Catalina before...He'd had more than enough experience in that department already.  
  
Before anyone could say anything else, Dumbledore strode into the room with Lu Tze and they all fell quiet. Snape, who had been previously leaning up against one of the glassy walls grimacing at the conversation, stood to attention.  
  
"Well Harry, Catalina, I trust you're not too tired from this afternoon to give us another demonstration?" he said warmly, though Sirius noted he was speaking more to Harry than Catalina.  
  
"No, that's fine," Harry said quickly, "what do you want us to do?"  
  
"Pretend we're not here," smiled Dumbledore, retreating to one side of the room, followed by the three men, who were all offered small armchairs that had suddenly appeared.  
  
Harry raised an eyebrow at Catalina, who merely looked bemused and they walked over to talk to Lu Tze to get instructions. Sirius perched on the edge of his sofa, watching them both eagerly, he was desperately curious about what he might witness. So it seemed were the other viewers, Dumbledore was looking comfortable in his chair, but was staring over his spectacles with a look of utmost concentration. Snape was also leaned back, but was following the two teenagers with hawk eyes, looking alert and attentive, as was Remus, who was perched on the edge of his seat like Sirius.  
  
The three huddled in the centre of the room spoke for a few more minutes, then Lu Tze retreated, drawing a wide circle into the air with an outstretched hand with enclosed the two teenagers. A containment spell Sirius guessed, to stop them being hit by renegade curses.  
  
However, instead of beginning to duel, they began to practice first, Sirius thought they must have been warming up, he still wasn't quite sure how magus powers worked, although he'd read any literature on the subject he could get his hands on. From where he was sat, Sirius watched Harry flick his hands a few times, sharing a joke with Catalina he couldn't hear. Her laughter bounced off the glassy walls, but she shut up instantly, as if remembering they were being watched. Harry chuckled at her expression, placing his hands out in front of him in a prayer like position, before drawing them apart. Between them was a swirling ball of green light, which when Sirius examined closer contained writhing threads of silver.  
  
"Concentrated raw magic," whispered Remus at Sirius right hand side, looking fairly impressed.  
  
Harry held out his hand until the light was balanced perfectly on his palm, concentrating deeply as Catalina clapped her hands and motioned to him to pass it to her. He pitched it overhead, and she caught it deftly in one hand, sharing another joke with Harry. With a slight wave of her other hand the colours merged and flickered before growing in brightness to a red and gold combination, which seemed to please them both immensely.  
  
A few seconds later they began to throw the light to each other, sometimes catching it one handed, sometimes not, but they never dropped it. Sirius was just getting bored watching this quick exchange when Catalina gave a mischievous grin, split the light in half and threw both at them at Harry, who executed an awkward dive for the second as he caught the other.  
  
"Seeker extraordinaire," he heard Catalina laugh, and Sirius couldn't help but grin.  
  
"Shut it you," growled Harry, even though Sirius could see him smiling, "I'm trying to concentrate."  
  
"Did it hurt?" she quipped, unfazed by his mock-anger as he tried to glare and follow the light at the same time.  
  
They continued this game for only another few minutes, until Lu Tze made a motion and they pressed the magic back into their palms, looking across to their mentor attentively. He shared just another few words with them, before stepping back out of the field, and waiting. Sirius held his breath, this is what he wanted to see...  
  
Harry and Catalina walked slightly apart from each other, rolling up their sleeves before turning to face one another. Sirius couldn't fail to be impressed by their stature and the sense of power that had just buzzed to life in the room. Whereas the two of them usually smiled or shared looks with each other, here the concentration was tangible and they stared at each other fiercely.  
  
Lu Tze crept backwards and perched at the perimeter of the containment zone.  
  
"And bow..." he instructed as both teenagers obediently did as they were told.  
  
"On the count of three, begin. One...Two...THREE!"  
  
There was sudden dazzling amount of light and Sirius struggled to peer through it to see that Catalina had thrown her curse first, a ball of white light that had flown towards Harry before he repelled it with his own. She dropped to the ground to avoid it and meanwhile Harry released a torrent of curses, ducking and dodging those that were bounced back at him.  
  
Sirius watched it open-mouthed, unaware that he had left his seat and was standing up. He had never really seen anyone using magus powers, let alone Harry, and was enthralled by the sight, the beauty of it. It had a grace and naturalistic quality that wandwork couldn't seem to duplicate.  
  
As Sirius gazed at them in open admiration, the battle raged fast and furious, as Catalina's superior spell knowledge fought against Harry's greater duelling experience and reflexes.  
  
Sirius understood how extremely tiring wandless duelling was and could see them both begin to slow as the match wore on, though their guard did not fall for a second. The determination set into both faces mirrored both the physical and mental effort they were both putting in, running, ducking, dodging and rolling, anything to get out of the way of the next curse.  
  
Sirius studied Catalina first, furiously throwing out curses and hexes far in advance of anything she should have known though the usual schooling with a finesse and accuracy that seemed well developed. He could see now why people always spoke about her powers in awe, and why Dumbledore thought of her as such a great weapon. His stomach gave a lurch to this thought, and he turned to watch his godson instead.  
  
Harry was a sight to see Sirius concluded, having studied wandless magic for less than three months he was holding up against Catalina's 13 years of practise amazingly well, demonstrating a foresight and flexibility that was simply outstanding for any wizard, let alone one his age. He felt as if he was sitting in on the Auror's practical exam and felt a surge of pride to say that Harry was his godson, no matter what that meant during these dark times.  
  
He shook his head and tried to focus on the duel, he could see they were both tiring and it was becoming harder to dodge curses for them both when the duel was one. Catalina had surprised Harry with a curse he couldn't quite name, which knocked him off his feet, by the time he went to scramble up, Catalina already had the fingertips of one hand pushed against his heart – she'd won.  
  
"Hai," shouted Lu Tze, stepping into the arena, "well done! Excellent, simply excellent."  
  
Sirius had to fight the urge to clap.  
  
They were both glaring at each other, their competitive nature overcoming any other feelings at that moment, as Harry, faced with defeat dropped his head against the floor breathing deeply, she also looked fatigued, drooping her head slightly before offering her hand as a lift up. He looked at it a few seconds before taking it and being pulled up.  
  
"Again," he said when he'd caught his breath.  
  
"No, one duel is enough for one night –" began Lu Tze, shaking his head and laughing before he was cut off by Catalina.  
  
"Fine, again," she repeated, and the two went to their beginning positions.  
  
Lu Tze seemed to stop and think for a moment, before silently stepping out of the arena.  
  
"On my count. One, two, THREE!" he shouted, as again the room lit up with the light of spells.  
  
The battle was intense and whereas before there had been a certain amount of holding back on both their parts for fear of injuring the other, this time they were more liberal with their spells. Again, whereas in the first duel Harry was more concerned with defensive action, he now seemed to be more in the attack and began to hurl a series of spells at Catalina which pushed her backwards without any chance of retaliation.  
  
The only way she got out of it was by dropping to the floor and rolling away, which she did quickly, leaving Harry to change his attack, which took too long and allowed her to recapture her advantage. Sirius was dimly aware that he was joined at the perimeter of the containment zone by someone, too busy staring at the two, two, had he called them children before? It seemed like such a wrong way to describe the battling pair in front of his eyes.  
  
He could hear the sound of stray curses banging against the walls, and the scuffle of mad feet as they danced across the vitreous floor, punctuated every now and again by the grunt of pain, yell of curses or exclamation of triumph. Harry seemed to have sensed he had found a winning formula with his previous attack and began the again, closing in on Catalina until they were only a metre apart, him throwing curses and her blocking them with a one hand as she tried to fight with the other.  
  
The match was won in a blur to Sirius who couldn't see how it happened, one minute they had been standing apart, and the next it was finished. It seemed that Catalina must have reached out to knock his hand away, and after grabbing her wrist Harry had swung her around until he was standing behind her, with her arm in a lock and finger pointing at her neck.  
  
"Hai," shouted Lu Tze, obviously caught off guard by the end of the duel before stepping into the arena.  
  
Harry and Catalina were still in the final position of the duel, with his arm held tight around her from behind as they both gulped deeply for oxygen. Feeling exhausted he dropped his head onto her shoulder, as she leant back onto his and they both laughed through their breathlessness.  
  
"Knew I...could beat you..." Sirius managed to hear Harry say, breathing deeply as he loosened his grip on her arm.  
  
"You didn't...it's a...draw," she told him and she flexed some life back into her arm as they untangled themselves, quite slowly Sirius noted with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"Again?" breathed Harry, wiping the sweat off his forehead.  
  
"No way," she muttered, still flexing her arm, "you've got a killer grip."  
  
"Sorry," he apologised with a grin.  
  
"I am very impressed with your duelling skills," said Lu Tze, looking ecstatic, "very impressed indeed! You make a wonderful team!"  
  
Harry and Catalina both blushed deeply.  
  
"Why don't you duel that well against me?" Lu Tze asked Harry in amusement, "you would beat me in seconds."  
  
"I-" began Harry, but finding no reason why this should be so, so he settled for a shrug of the shoulders, "I'll try next time."  
  
Sirius waited until the field had been dropped before walking over to the pair and clapping Harry on the shoulders with more force than he meant to, knocking his godsons glasses down his nose.  
  
"That was fantas - no amaz - you were bloody brilliant!" exclaimed Sirius eventually, to overcome to say much else.  
  
"Yes, excellent duelling Harry, just excellent," beamed Remus as Harry looked embarrassed at the attention and scuffed his feet slightly, "and you Catalina, of course."  
  
She looked shocked for a second before going nearly as red as Harry, mumbling a quiet thanks.  
  
Snape however did not say anything, maybe Sirius thought with a note of triumph he couldn't find anything to complain about. However, he pushed his vindictive thoughts out of his head when Dumbledore approached, eager to hear what the headmaster would say.  
  
"Excellent work, both of you," he said, nodding his head every so slightly as if he'd been proved right in something, "outstanding."  
  
"Thank you Sir," they both mumbled, and Sirius was again struck by how similar their mannerisms had become.  
  
"Yes, excellent...excellent," he continued with a faraway look in his eyes, "I think it would be best all round if you continue your practicals with Catalina, that is if you don't mind of course."  
  
"Er, not at all Professor," Catalina said, looking over to Harry for a moment who merely grinned as if to say 'ha, look what you've got yourself into now'.  
  
"Excellent," mused Dumbledore once again, before checking his watch, "two moons past a comet, time for me to leave."  
  
Harry looked like his was trying to hold in a laugh at the old mans theatrics and Sirius as inclined to feel a little annoyed - not twenty minutes before they had been discussing the possiblity that Harry could be murdered. However, now it was as if none of that had happened and Dumbledore was back to playing the eccentric fool. Sirius didn't like it one bit. He could do nothing about it however, and merely waved Dumbledore goodbye, who strode out followed quickly by the ever mute Snape.  
  
"We better get off too," he told the two teenagers, "shift starts in half an hour and I need to change."  
  
"Oh, ok," said Harry, face falling - he'd obviously thought he was staying longer.  
  
"But I'll see you before you leave ok?" said Sirius, ruffling Harry's hair as his admiration swelled once again.  
  
"Sirius," wined Harry childishly, ducking out of the way, "watch the hair, this was carefully styled this afternoon!"  
  
"I doubt your hair even knows the meaning of styled," said Catalina in a stage mutter.  
  
"Thanks you," he said, torn between laughing and trying to appear annoyed, "at least it has character."  
  
"Is that what they're calling it these days?" she asked him, looking wide- eyed and innocent.  
  
"Do you see what I have to put up with?" he asked Sirius and Remus in a long-suffering voice, before giving a melodramatic sigh.  
  
"Chuh - you love it really," she replied, bobbing her tongue out at him.  
  
Sirius watched this exchange with amusement, realising this was the first time he'd ever really seen Catalina speaking so much, or sounding so...happy. This must have been the first time he'd ever seen the real Catalina, not the shell-shocked girl in St Mungo's or the depressed one that had stayed at The Gatehouse in the summer. He got a pleasant shock when he realised that he quite liked the girls sense of humour, changed as it was from their last and only meeting during the summer.  
  
"We better leave Sirius," reminded Remus suddenly and he couldn't help but feel slightly annoyed - he wanted to speak with Harry for longer.  
  
"Right - yeah..." he replied, turning back to Harry and Catalina, "see you soon, keep safe."  
  
"We will," they chorused and Sirius grinned, before giving a wave and departing.  
  
The last thing he heard before shutting the door was Harry mocking Catalina about something and her sudden peel of laughter, which Harry joined in with before the sound was cut out. He cast a sad look at the door, wanting very much to go back and not report for duty at the ministry, but he guessed he had no choice in the matter. He walked in silence with Remus towards the Entrance Hall. Sirius's head was still reeling from their meeting with Dumbledore and once again his thoughts returned to Harry's future, trying to equate it with the boy he'd seen joking around a few minutes ago.  
  
"Do you think Dumbledore's-" began Sirius hesitantly, not looking across to Remus but knowing nevertheless that he was listening, "do you think maybe he's loosing touch with Harry a bit?"  
  
"How do you mean?" asked Remus evenly after a few seconds of thought.  
  
"Well," he began awkwardly, never liking to admit that Dumbledore may be wrong about something, "it's just the way he was dealing with things tonight. Don't you think he was being a little...well, he just seemed to get so uptight - the way he jumped out his seat like that and gave us the old eye."  
  
"He's irritated at Harry for not taking the Prophecy seriously," replied Remus carefully, not wanting to annoy Sirius, he was looking volatile.  
  
"Would you?" Sirius practically yelped, before trying to calm himself down, the accuracy of the Prophecy wasn't what he wanted to talk about.  
  
"Listen, we all know how dangerous this situation is," Remus told him as gently as possible, "well, maybe all of us but Harry. I think that's what bothers Dumbledore the most - he knows what Harry has to do and he's trying to prepare him for that, all this extra responsibility, including him in the Order when almost everyone said no, the magus classes. They're all tests don't you see?"  
  
"And they're working though aren't they?" Sirius said with another flare of pride, "did you see that duelling? That's Auror class stuff and he doesn't even realise. Mind you Lu Tze did say he wasn't usually that good, probably trying to impress someone, eh?"  
  
"And you've just proved Dumbledore's point exactly," said Remus with a slight frown, "Harry is completely and utterly obsessed with that girl, and she is with him!"  
  
"I think it's good for him," said Sirius stoically, feeling strangely compassionate towards Catalina after today, "to be doing something so normal. Anyway, I think it means a lot to him, to have someone like her love him, I mean it's not the same with friends like Ron and Hermione, or us..."  
  
"No, I agree that it's not a bad thing," said Remus carefully, "but it's a major weakness - "  
  
Sirius made to angrily interrupt, but Remus help up a quietening hand and continued in the same, carefully worded way.  
  
"It is a weakness, you know what he's willing to do for her, its what James would have been willing to do for Lily, and it's admirable, it really is, but..." Remus said, looking worried in the pale moonlight, "It's a wonder they ever break away from their own little world long enough to find out anything. I mean, I bet he hasn't even given half of the things he should have been his full and undivided attention - he doesn't even realise the Dementor situation, and you'd think that'd concern him."  
  
At the mentions of Dementors Sirius face drained of colour, that haunting look of Azkaban rising into his expression and he thought about those creatures that plagued him for 12 long years. He hated them so much, so much that his blood boiled at the thought of them, at what they could do to people like him and Harry. He now harboured a desire to go out a rip every single one of them to shreds, destroy them for even thinking that by abandoning Azkaban and joining the Death Eaters they could feed on more innocent lives.  
  
He thought ahead to his task with the Auror department, in coalescence with the Order, which was practically a ministry department of its own now. He felt a cold, empty hole in the pit of his stomach, he wanted to get rid of the Dementors so much that he carried the desire around with him wherever he went now, it was like an obsession. And he knew better than any that an obsession is the best way to get around the Dementors.  
  
"He'll find out soon enough," Sirius muttered, almost to himself, "Dumbledore is going to have to tell him. We've had three Kisses in Poland already, Dumbledore will have to prepare him..."  
  
"Yes, he will," said Remus, looking even paler now than before, "and Catalina...I don't suppose she's met them before, do you?"  
  
"She was held at the Manor for a day, and the Dementors were there when we got there," said Sirius slowly, "perhaps they guarded her, during that day?"  
  
They both gave an involuntary shiver at the terrible thought.  
  
"Who knows," said Remus eventually, "I would think that of anyone, she would be the most likely to know how to do the Patronus anyway, she can defend herself."  
  
Sirius didn't want to say that he thought that if a Dementor got close enough to Catalina for her to warrant a Patronus she probably wouldn't have been in any state to be able to do it. However, Remus seemed to have the same thought.  
  
"But then again, given her past history she would probably have the same reaction as Harry used to have," he said slowly, forehead creasing and his eyes adopted a thoughtful look, "Harry used to collapse before he could even think about doing something...always said he could hear Lily, and James..."  
  
Sirius gave a deep frown at this, he'd known of course, but he didn't want reminding.  
  
"He'll have to teach her," said Sirius abruptly, wanting to finish the conversation now, he thought it was too cruel that the only reason Harry knew what his parent's voices sounding like was when they were being murdered.  
  
"Hagrid isn't having much luck is he?" said Remus a few minutes later as they crunched down the path to the schools gate.  
  
"I never thought he had much of a chance to be honest," said Sirius with a shrug of his shoulders, "even if the giants do help during the war, we've got no promise they won't turn...you remember them from the last war - they're more inclined to Voldemorts way of thinking than ours."  
  
Remus nodded in agreement and they continued down the gravel path in silence for a few minutes and Sirius could tell Remus was doing some deep thinking.  
  
"All that talk of the end of the war...that was scary wasn't it?" he finally said.  
  
"Yes," said Sirius quietly, "I still can't help but - I just can't accept that this is the way it's got to be...That this is what his life has been building up to, a hundred years before his birth? It's not right..."  
  
"No, definitely not right," sighed Remus, looking at the massive gates they'd reached, stepping through into the world of apparation.  
  
"Do you ever wonder," began Sirius with a slight laugh, "what would have happened if James had turned up late for his first date instead of just making it like he had - whether there'd be a Harry at all."  
  
"That would throw a spanner in the works of old Amaris Milne," agreed Remus, thinking back to the evening so many years ago.  
  
"Well, when do you leave?" asked Sirius, looking at his watch realising he was going to be late for work at this rate.  
  
"As soon as the moon wanes," he said and they both looked up at the silvery orb hanging in the sky, almost full, "I should make it for Tuesdays first lesson, hope my language is up to scratch."  
  
"After spending five years in the country I should hope so," laughed Sirius, his chuckle dying in the air as if it seemed to sense that the atmosphere did not like or require laughter.  
  
"Well, I better go," said Remus with a slight, tired smile, "see you tomorrow."  
  
"Yeah, I'll get some fresh meat in."  
  
They both looked at each other, understanding that humour was beyond them after the revelations of the day, and disapperated in unison, gone with a small 'pop' to different sides of the country.  
  
AN/ And now time for the ever familiar apology. This was indeed a lot longer than expected for a break, but I had university exams to sit! But never fear they went ok! I have passed this year with a First and it's all due to my break from the story (honest). Anyway, what with that and archaeology digs I had to do and money to earn my life's been pretty hectic -UNTIL NOW.  
  
Three blessed weeks of writing ahead of me! Yipee Yay and all that. Hope you liked to return to some kind of plotline! So what do you think, am very curious to know...  
  
Aryanna - Hey there, thanks for the review! Hope this last chapter was to your liking? (  
  
athenakitty - I love the way you seem to be only capable of speaking in questions! Yes Malfoy really is jealous - has bee since the day he and Harry met Catalina. You'll just have to wait and see at the funeral who and how many attend. Dobby is only wearing wizarding robes because he's a rebel and he can if he wants too! As to the letters, we'll wait and see and as to Fudge, Bella and Umbridge aren't in this as it was written before OOTP came out, Peter is currently in Azkaban and as to the Malfoys, we'll have to wait and see.  
  
dementorchic - I know what you mean against the eternal struggle of revision vs. fan fiction, we all know whose going to win every time! The funeral is coming up - with or without Catalina and we'll just have to wait and see about Malfoy, he's not really going to feature for two months of the story now...or is he? Lols. Thanks as usual for the wonderful words of wisdom!  
  
drunk-monk - I can't believe you sat down and read through BOTH stories - now that's dedication! Sorry you've had to wait so long for the next instalment - hope the studying paid off! Mine did eventually!  
  
FrostWing - Sorry the chapter wasn't longer, and for the eternal wait you've had for this one! And as to the riddle, if you're referring to the line "what makes him so special" I actually don't know!  
  
GryffRavHuffSlythendor - Again I can't believe you spent so long reading little ole me's stories! I must be doing something right! Hope you liked the latest chapter!  
  
Jen - I liked the thought of my Dobby (not the ugly movie Dobby) in a little wizarding robe, makes him seem a bit more of a rebel doesn't it? Sorry about the hated waiting! I promise I'll do better!  
  
Lowlander - Sorry about the long wait! I get it from everyone - doesn't matter that I'm a very busy person lols! Hope you didn't go crazy (if indeed you're not already) waiting for this one! Sorry!  
  
Meek - Thanks for the review - sorry you had to wait so long, thanks for the prompt, I'd forgotten I hadn't updated till you reviewed!  
  
Nasser Himura - Glad you liked! As you've seen there powers are developing! There's just a bit more background personal stuff for them to sort out first before we get into the serious JKR stuff! And your right about the funeral... :P  
  
nyermen - Hey Peter, Zurich sounds cool! You sure do get to see some places with your work! Spare a thought for the struggling student stuck in England! And I may take your advice and become a career student - I like the life of 10% discount too much to give it up just yet!  
  
Pheonixdor Dragonclaw - I'm a Gryffindor fan myself, though I suppose most people say that - I reckon I'd be a Hufflepuff if I was sorted! Anywho, the red letters, ask me the one question I can't answer yet, they feature in the next chapter...including someone's theories about them.  
  
Piro - Thanks for the review - you goaded me into writing, I thought, if someone wants to read it that much they want to be personally e-mailed, then I better make the effort!  
  
Talix - Hey there, thanks for the lovely long review - I like reading reviews that say more than just "love it - write more!". I know Catalina's mood swings are frustrating, but as you said understandable. I don't think I could write her any other way! And now they've admitted they like each other it helps the snarkiness yeah? As too Hermione, everyone seemed to like her little SPEW moment too! Maybe I should add her in like that a little more often?  
  
The Fatadder - Hey Rich, cool name! How's things up your end? Exams went horrendously (like we knew they would) but somehow I managed to scrape through! So its back for another year - thank god we don't have to get into the real world and get jobs JUST yet! As to the story, glad you liked the SPEW bit, loads of people seemed to like their little disagreement! And Malfoy being jealous (where's the surprise?) could lead somewhere interesting I'm sure! I'll include another Red Dwarf quote soon - have been watching season 2 a lot this week!  
  
vader II - I'm hoping that Harry and Catalina are going to be doing some serious short tearing too! Don't worry, it'll come (eventually) lols. Thanks for the review! And P.S. Telekinetic means you can move things with your mind! I think you meant to say Psychic!  
  
P.S. Commiseration's to all my fellow countrymen and women, I, like you, feel the pain of a nation wrongly robbed of a moment of glory! I don't think there's a person out there who doesn't want a nice bat bogey hex thrown the way of that Slytherin of a referee Urs Meier...Curse him precious (I know some Romanian Witches already have...)


	31. She is Gone

** Chapter Thirty **

**She is Gone**

Dumbledore was sat in his office with Professor Snape as Sirius and Remus made their way to their shifts and Harry and Catalina returned to Gryffindor Tower, discussing the nights events.

"It must be something to do with their curse scars," mused Dumbledore out loud, as Snape watched him with a calculating, yet thoughtful look.

"We know some sort of self-sacrifice spell was cast between them during the Halloween attack," began Dumbledore again, on a different track this time, yet he trailed off, deep in thought.

"The spell must have been cast simultaneously by both of them for them both to have survived," Snape said, thinking back to the reams of notes he'd made on the subject of magus's and scar curses since last year, "or the spell cast _onto_ them at one specific point which unlocked hidden feelings. These kind of ancient magic spells _do not _work unless the person is willing to die for the other…"

He lapsed into silence, a year on and he still hadn't managed to understand how Harry and Catalina had been hit with the killing curse and managed to survive, or how this had caused the transference of their magical ability.

"The emotional connection between them is dying," said Dumbledore thoughtfully, "they of course could prevent this from happening, or tap into it if they needed to, but eventually it will fail."

"Yet he still has her magus powers, and she can still speak parseltongue," said Snape, "and they both share the vision dreams."

"Yes," said Dumbledore slowly, pulling out the Pensieve from under his desk carefully, siphoning off a few thoughts, "from this we can assume the connection between them is separate entirely to their transferred powers. Yet there is a connection between them when using magus powers."

"I have had the pleasure of sitting in on a few on Harry's practical duelling sessions with Lu Tze without his knowledge and I can safely say that he has either improved greatly overnight, or something different happens when he uses his magus powers near to or with Catalina."

"How do you mean?" asked Snape sharply.

"Harry is skillful at duelling with his wand, we all know this. Against Lu Tze, and with his magus powers, for the last weeks he has been _good_. Tonight against Catalina he was _exemplary_."

"Maybe he was showing off," suggested Snape with a slight sneer in his voice.

Dumbledore gave him a look and Snape wiped the smirk of his face at once. He had always tried very hard to hide his hatred of the boy when they were talking about matters as important as this.

"No Severus, you know as well as I do that this sort of jump in ability is not the product of _showing off_. No, I have suspected for quite some time now that the scars on the palm of their hands are not as defunct as we first believed. The experiments this morning proved that their power does multiply when they work together, especially if the scars are linked."

"They have not come to that conclusion themselves yet," noted Snape, wondering how he hadn't himself, but trying not to let Dumbledore see that.

"I think Catalina may have," said Dumbledore, putting another memory into the Pensieve, "during the Legillimens experiment this morning, I came across a block on her power as she tried to levitate the chair with Harry - a purposeful block. She was making all the appropriate signs of magic, but she wasn't doing anything - it was all Harry."

"She must have known we'd have picked upon the fact of their combined power being stronger than it is divided and set about trying to fool us, thankfully we could see through the ruse," said Dumbledore heavily, "they do make it difficult for us."

Snape nodded vehemently, making a mental note of a book that he knew of that might shed light on this matter. He thought of all the things he'd discovered about the pair that day, and in particular what he'd discovered from Catalina.

"We have some useful information on Charles Firelight now," said Snape after a moment, "is that who you believe is the author of the red letters?"

"Ah, the red letters," said Dumbledore heavily, leaning back in his chair, "you saw them too then? It is possible they are from her father, but we cannot rule out the possibility that they are from another Death Eater of some sort."

"She's terrified of them," said Snape flatly, thinking back to the memory Catalina had leaked during the experiment of a black bird carrying a red letter.

Dumbledore nodded slowly, "Until we see the contents of the letters we cannot know, but I am more inclined to believe that they are from a Death Eater and not her father."

"What do you think they're about?" asked Snape, making a note to be on the look out for Death Eaters who use that sort of bird instead of an owl for post.

"It is possible that they are requesting information about our side, or Harry. Perhaps they are threats, we cannot say. All we do know is that she is being contacted by someone whom she is afraid of and who is possibly under the control of Voldemort."

Snape was quiet for a long time, going over the new information the day had brought, a lot of it put an end to several lines of inquiry he had spent months constructing, but some evidence held up some earlier theories. He really needed to consult his notes now.

"Does this change our plans?"

"No, they will go to Poland as instructed," said Dumbledore thoughtfully, "if she is not replying to the letters the author will never know she is not at Hogwarts."

"_If_," pointed out Snape.

"We have backup plans if things begin to go wrong in Poland," said Dumbledore finally, motioning to one file on his desk.

"Of course. If that is all headmaster, I would like to have a look into this now and I have several potions to check on?" asked Snape, sensing the headmaster would soon be lost in his own thoughts.

"Of course, report back to me as soon as you have made progress," said Dumbledore, standing up as Snape moved out of the room.

When the Potions master was gone Dumbledore extracted another memory, which rose out of the silvery water of the Pensieve and revolved slowly. It was Harry, whispering in Parseltongue to a small black snake.

"How much sway does he hold over you Harry," he questioned the boy quietly, almost to himself.

He replaced this image will several others that rose out of the waters and receded quickly. He'd always maintained that a Pensieve could help you spot patterns in things that were right under your nose. Harry's of varying ages displayed themselves from within in his mind, solidifying what he feared the most. He paused on the final memory, so that the sixteen-year-old Harry stood, still as statue in front of him. In his hand he held a ball of raw, unconcentrated magic.

It was green and silver.

"How much sway does he hold over you Harry?" he repeated in a murmur, staring at the boys lightning bolt shaped scar, scraped across his forehead.

They were running out of time.

Harry stared at the red canopy in front of him, deep in thought, unable to get to sleep. The day had, as usual, been full of new information and situations that confused and worried him greatly, even if he didn't show it.

He worried about the fear in Sirius's eyes he'd seen that evening, he worried about the sudden realisation that his powers were stronger and more developed around Catalina for no reason in particular, he worried about the scar on her back. He worried about the Prophecy, and Voldemorts plans, Snape seeing his memories, about Ron and Hermione in France, Remus in Germany, Sirius's secret mission…

But most of all he worried about the lurch of fear he'd felt when, holding the ball of green and silver magic, Catalina had looked across to him and joked;

'You must be a Slytherin at heart.'

"Catalina?" asked a voice from behind her sofa timidly.

She craned her neck over the back of the sofa and saw the youngest Weasley standing there, shivering in a pair of plaid pyjamas.

"Oh, it's you," was all she said, settling back and looking at the fire.

"Yeah, it's me," Ginny tried again, moving towards the front of the sofa until she was stood in front of Catalina.

Neither of them said anything and Catalina watched her for a few seconds before diverting her eyes back to the book she was reading. Ginny gave an uncomfortable shuffle and sat down on the table. There was a long silence and Catalina didn't say anything. She didn't particularly have anything to say to the young girl to be honest.

"What are you reading?" asked Ginny a while later.

Catalina looked up to her, as if measuring her against the effort taken to answer, "A poetry book of Hermione's."

"Is it good?" she asked.

"I don't know. It's muggle so I don't really understand what they're talking about most of the time," she said, staring avidly at one page.

"I've never really understood poetry either," said Ginny in what sounded like a very nervous voice, "not that I've read that much, when you're in a house full of people its hard to get any alone time - especially one with the Twins in. But I tried to find time but, you know, never really -"

She trailed off as Catalina hadn't said anything and was watching her suspiciously. Ginny gulped nervously and gave a weak smile.

"Whose it by?" she asked, rather more bravely than she felt under the stare.

"Some guy called Shakespeare," she said, looking back to the book with interest, "I'm reliably informed that it's good…"

"Shakespeare eh? Never heard of him to be honest, but my dad would probably know all about him - he's one of these muggle-freak type people who -"

"Do you want something?" Catalina cut in mid-ramble, "only, it's late, I'm tired and I don't particularly want to have to sit here and talk to you."

"Oh, right," said Ginny, faltering slightly at her well deserved rebuke, "Only, I ah, came here to give you a present."

She pushed a small package into Catalina's lap, who stared at it blankly for a few moments. She put the book aside and stared down at the brown wrapping which bore all the hallmarks of having been used as wrapping and postal paper several times already.

"It's nothing special before you get too excited," said Ginny, who couldn't have said anything further from what Catalina was feeling, "it's just…useful…"

Catalina looked up at the girl, slightly suspicious. Was this some new trick to fool her into opening some kind of prank? Or was it a dare on behalf of the other girls that Ginny had to complete - get close enough to the crazy girl and get points?

"Er…it's second-hand I'm afraid," continued Ginny in a plausible imitation of seeming unconcerned that Catalina hadn't moved for the last three minutes.

"What is it?" she said blankly.

"Well…just open it and see," Ginny said uncomfortably.

Catalina picked up the package lightly and then turned to the girl again, "Is this some kind of joke? Because I'm not really in the mood-"

"No no! Its no joke, Just a present…."

Catalina gave one last searching look and then slowly turned the package over, pulling off the spell-o-tape and unfolding the paper neatly. Out came a dark brown belt, nothing special, just tan leather with a small buckle. Catalina pulled it out and looked at it blankly, then back up to Ginny.

"It's a belt," explained Ginny dumbly, faltering slightly with nerves, "it's just your muggle trousers are really baggy and I wouldn't want all the guys looking at my ass the whole time…"

She trailed off helplessly and gave a cough of embarrassment.

"Look," said Ginny, getting up and trying to be all jovial about the situation, "if you don't want it it's ok, I just thought, you know, that you might need one. I mean I had two or three so it's no problem. But I can have it back if you don't -"

"No, no, it's ok. Sorry, I'm acting like a right weirdo I know," said Catalina, breaking out of her silence and looking at the belt properly this time, "thanks a lot. It's really useful…Why?"

"What?" asked Ginny, looking relieved Catalina was now looking faintly happier but surprised by her sudden question.

"Why are you giving me presents?" she said, all suspicion returning, "I thought you hated me?"

"No, I don't hate you," said Ginny looking slightly desperate, "not at all. I know I've been acting like a total bitch this term but it's just, you know…"

She broke off and looked around worriedly, as if someone might hear. She slipped off the table and sat on the couch next to Catalina and leant her head towards her conspiratorially.

"It's just, it's very hard to go against what people say and do here you know? I've never been one for being self-assertive or working well on my own…" she whispered, "And I know that's no excuse for me letting them get away with what they do, but I didn't do it for the reasons they did."

"What reasons do you have for hating me then?" asked Catalina in a slightly mocking voice, also lowered to a whisper.

"I don't hate you!" Ginny said, before blushing darkly, "If you must know, it because I'm, well…I'm…jealous…"

"Jealous?" replied Catalina blankly, "what of?"

"You," admitted Ginny, still red as the setting sun and studying her hands very carefully.

"Me? Why?"

"Oh come on, isn't it obvious?" cried Ginny, throwing up her hands in despair.

"No!" said Catalina, completely at sea and unable to see any possible reason why anyone would be jealous of her.

"I'm jealous of you because you have the one thing I've wanted since I've come to Hogwarts and have never been able to get!" she said, looking mortally embarrassed at having to admit what she was, but also the slightest bit upset.

Catalina shook her head to show she still wasn't following, "What?"

"_Harry_," she mumbled, holding her face in her hands now, "I've been acting like a lovesick fool ever since I saw him on his first day here! Everyone knows about it, they all tease me and make jokes but it's not funny! I've been trying to talk to him for _five _years and have never managed a whole conversation and then you just waltz in one day and he's been just completely hooked since then!"

"And I tried so _so _hard to get him to like me, and nothing would work…And I guess this whole Death Eater fiasco was just a good excuse to vent off my feelings. And I know I shouldn't have, and I know it was wrong! But everyone's got a little bit of bad in them I think…"

Ginny finished her rant, and looked like she was about to burst into tears.

"So you're jealous of me because of Harry?" she said slowly, before breaking into a huge grin and giving a whoop of laughter.

Ginny looked torn between shocked and angry and settled for staring at her open mouthed, "What?"

"Nothing, nothing," laughed Catalina, smiling widely, "that's the best news I've heard all day! I'm really sorry, because I know you must feel terrible about Harry and everything, but you don't know how refreshing it is to know that someone doesn't think I'm a Death Eater!"

Ginny gave an unsure smile, not sure whether to be feeling hurt or happy.

"He's not all he's cracked up to be either," joked Catalina, patting Ginny on the knee, "completely obsessed with Quidditch -"

"Yeah, I know," said Ginny a little breathlessly.

"Got a major inferiority complex -" Catalina continued, grinning widely as Ginny smiled too.

"Knew that too," admitted Ginny.

"He's got emotional problems," she laughed, knowing they were both acting silly and absurd, but it felt quite nice for her to be talking to somebody new.

"Don't we all?" asked Ginny dryly, and they both stopped their list, breaking out into laughter.

Catalina finally calmed down and Ginny wiped a tear away from her eye, they didn't really know why they were laughing, but all they knew was that it felt good.

"You're very lucky," said Ginny seriously when the laughter had fully died away, "you do realise that don't you?"

Catalina gave her a surprised look, thinking over the situation in her head, "I suppose I do now."

Ginny smiled faintly, before it slid away slowly, "He hates me now."

"He doesn't hate you. I think he's just…annoyed?" she suggested with a shrug of her shoulder, still searching for the correct word, "no, not annoyed. I don't know, tired? Accepting of the situation? He'll come round, I'll talk to him for you -"

"No!" exclaimed Ginny, looking horrified, "don't you dare say anything to him - it's bad enough the whole school and my family laughing about my stupid crush, let alone him!"

"I don't think he'd laugh," said Catalina, but understanding anyway, "ok, ok. I won't say anything to him. We'll just, let him figure out for himself."

"Thanks," she said gratefully.

The book of poetry was lying forgotten and Catalina smiled at her luck as Ginny engaged her in idle conversation for a few more minutes. She couldn't remember ever really speaking to the youngest Weasley outside Quidditch practise, and found herself quite annoyed at the fact. She seemed to be on the same wavelength as Ginny and was enjoying speaking to her. She noticed however after a while that Ginny had something else she wanted to say, and it was obviously something she was working up the courage to do because she was skirting the topic for ages. Eventually however, there was a lull in the conversation and Ginny seemed to bit the bullet.

"Can I talk to you about something else as well?" she asked Catalina, in a much lowered voice, "about what I really wanted to talk to you about?"

"Er, sure," said Catalina, also in a low voice, unsure why they were now whispering.

"Well, after May and the Riddle Manor Attack, and what with you being there and all…I sort of thought you might be able to tell me something about Percy and where they've taken him. Everyone's given up hope and I thought…maybe if you could remember…we could go and find him…Harry could, help…"

Catalina stared at the belt in front on her lap for some time, taken completely by surprise at the turn in conversation. She never knew Ginny felt like that at all - that she still believed Percy was alive and that she might have the key to his wherabouts. She carefully chose what she was going to say next, for fear of having a distraught girl on her hands.

"Ginny, I really think that if your brother was alive he would have tried to get back to you by now…"

Ginny gave a tearful sniff and shook her head.

"He's being held prisoner and he can't escape, _I know he is_. I have dreams about him every night, shouting at me to come and find him and I can't! I can't do anything here!" cried Ginny, gripping Catalina's arm rather tightly now.

"They're just nightmares Ginny," Catalina told her as calmly and as clearly as possible, "dreams don't mean anything."

"They do! I know they do!" she said, a manic glint in her eye now, "Harry has dreams, and they're real. _You _have dreams and _they're _real. All through my first year I had dreams that were real! Why not now?"

"Ginny," said Catalina awkwardly, "Harry's dreams, they're different…Sometimes when a person really wants to believe something, with all their heart, they can convince themselves."

"But I know he's alive," sobbed Ginny now, "He's got to be!"

Catalina wrapped an unsure arm around the girls shoulders. It had been so long she'd had to comfort anyone else that she'd forgotten what to do, lately she'd always been the one in need of TLC.

"How can he just be gone?" she asked her tearfully, "One moment here and not the next? How can a whole lifetime of thoughts, memories and achievements be lost in a second? They can't! There has to be something else!"

"Maybe there is," said Catalina soothingly, "maybe there is. That's what I want to believe about my mama. That's what you have to believe about Percy. And one day, you'll see him again."

Ginny choked out something, but it was lost in a wail of tears, so Catalina merely patted her on the back sympathetically, and waited for her to finish. It took a surprising amount of time and when she was finished Ginny seemed too embarrassed to continue the conversation.

"I also wanted to give you this," she muttered, pushing another package into Catalina's hands.

"What is it?" she asked, as Ginny got to her feet and made to leave.

"My mum made it for me to wear to Percy's…you know, if we didn't find him…alive…" she explained in a mumble, still red eyed and red faced from her tearful encounter, "and I won't need it. I didn't know if you had one for your mum's, so…see you tomorrow."

And with that she was gone and Catalina was left sitting alone in the common room feeling slightly bewildered by Ginny's sudden apology and sad behaviour. When she heard her dorm door close somewhere above the common room, Catalina turned to the package in her hand, pulling off the slightly battered brown paper slightly tentatively.

There was a mass of black fabric inside and she look at it for a few seconds in bewilderment, before the penny dropped. She reached in and pulled out a long, thick black veil that was nothing more than a huge square of gauze and quite obviously home made.

She stared at it in her hands for some time, a mass of conflicting emotion bubbling up inside her with nowhere to go. She was sick of crying for her mother, sick of crying for herself, crying for her father, for her life, she was just tired of it all and the gift of a mourning veil was not exactly her idea of a welcomed present.

Forgoing the temptation to try it on, she merely bundled it and her new belt under her arm and got up from the couch, making her way to bed.

There was only one day to go until the funeral, and letters were still arriving for Catalina via Harry and Professor McGonagall. Harry was sure he'd sent letters to only half the people that were answering, but it seemed news travels fast and he guessed he must have obviously missed a few people out.

Catalina was absolutely swamped with letters, and she had soon issued the command for everyone who came into contact with them to open them for her. If they were written in English they could read it and put it in whatever pile it deserved, if it wasn't they were to give it to her for translation at a later date.

Everyone had noticed a difference in Catalina's behaviour the closer they got to the funeral. No longer was she crying at the slightest thing, or walking in a daze, now she was almost normal, just angry, as if something had given her a secret fire. A fire she could throw all of her sorrow and grief onto, burn it up and replace it with whatever feeling she was experiencing. What it was, Harry had no idea and was beginning to worry slightly - it was slightly scary how quickly her mood could change and he wondered silently if something had happened he wasn't aware of.

The evening before the funeral, they settled down into the school common room for a reason Harry couldn't quite understand, it had been Catalina's choice. It was quite full and most of the space was being taken with eagerly chatting students looking forward to the end of the school week which was almost in sight. They didn't do much, played a few games of snooker before sitting around the badly tuned radio and trying to listen to the latest chart countdown. Harry wondered vaguely why there were any wizarding bands at all, when their prime audience was in school most of the year and couldn't listen to their music.

Then, and this was the oddest thing Harry had seen for a while, Ginny came over, chatted for a short while about random things, and then Catalina walked off with her - to play Pool. Harry, Ron and Hermione watched all this in open-mouthed bewilderment.

"Did they just…" began Hermione, pointing vaguely in the path the two had walked.

"Yeah," agreed Harry blankly, watching Catalina leaning on her cue, laughing with Ginny.

"Are they…friends?" asked Ron, equally as confused.

"Yeah," repeated Harry, lost for words.

There was a brief silence.

"Since when?" said Ron and Hermione in unison as a peel of laughter erupted from the Snooker table.

"Now I guess," said Harry, thoroughly puzzled.

"O-kay," said Ron slowly, looking faintly bewildered, to the general agreement of the others.

And so Catalina and Ginny played five games of Pool while Harry, Ron and Hermione sat down and talked on their own for the first time in over a year. He had forgotten what it was like with just the three of them together, and noticed for the first time how much their situation had changed, Hermione cuddled up to Ron as she was. He rather felt like a third wheel although they did nothing to make him feel like that and he tried to battle against the feeling for a long time. As much as Harry enjoyed talking to his best friends, he couldn't shake the feeling that someone was missing.

"Have you found anything out yet?" asked Hermione a while later after Ron had walked over to challenge Catalina to another round.

"About what?"

"About the you-know-what on her back," said Hermione in a low voice, looking around conspiratorially.

"Oh," said Harry, before lowering his voice and shifting closer to her, "no, not yet. I managed to get a note for the restricted section off Lu Tze for this book I hear Sirius talking about for Remus's exams - _Schlotts Bumper Book of Torture Techniques_, catchy title I know."

"How did you manage to get a note?" she asked incredulously, looking appalled at the title of the book.

"Said I needed it for background research for Defence," he shrugged, "Lu Tze expects me to do loads of reading anyway so I guess he didn't mind…"

"Oh, right then," said Hermione, looking faintly puzzled, before shaking her thoughts away, "anyway, I thought you might like to know I found this book in the art section of the library and it's on magical tattoos you see, and I thought we might get an idea _how _they're done…"

"It's not a tattoo Hermione, it's a scar," he said flatly, feeling the familiar queasiness that overcome him when he really thought about it.

"I know that," she said earnestly, "but magical tattoos are sometimes actually cut into the skin. Some cultures rub ash into the wounds you see to create tattoos. I think in the muggle world too, some tribes of-"

"It's not a tribal tattoo Hermione," he said heavily looking over to Catalina who was wrestling the cue off Ron, "someone deliberately scarred her."

"I know Harry," she said, remembering the way Harry got whenever they talked about the issue and wondering once again what theories he himself had formulated, "I know that…perhaps we should work together on this? I don't really think you should dwell too much on it by yourself…"

She trailed off as she caught the look in Harry's eyes.

She couldn't really think of anything else to say so she decided to finish the conversation, loosing herself in her own turbulent thoughts. He avoided her eyes after that, quietly picking at the frayed knee of his jeans as Hermione looked over to Catalina - she couldn't believe it was her mothers funeral tomorrow and the girl was attempting to fence with a snooker cue with her boyfriend, laughing uncontrollably.

She was about to say something to Harry when she looked across to him and paused. He was slouched down quite far in their sofa, running a finger across the scar on the palm of his hand, studying it in the kind of way that said he probably wouldn't have done in public, had he been aware he was doing it. She could tell he was doing some serious thinking, probably dwelling like she knew he would on the issue of the scar.

"Try not to think about it Harry," she told him quietly, slouching down in her seat as well and laying her head on his shoulder.

She felt him tense up instantly at her uncharacteristic display of emotion, but felt, given the past events and Harry's obviously dark thoughts, sometimes you needed to show those you loved that you were in fact there. Maybe Harry realised this she hoped, when, after a few moments he relaxed, even dropping his shoulder so she had a more comfortable cushion. She closed her eyes wearily, trying not to think about the funeral tomorrow, or her bedtime reading material on tattoos, concentrating only on drowning out the noise of the packed common room.

After a while she felt Harry lean his cheek against the top of her head, before giving a deep sigh.

"It's going to be weird not seeing you for two months you know," she heard him say quietly.

"Yeah I know," she mumbled sleepily, "the longest we'll ever not have seen each other."

"I hope everything goes ok for you over there," he said after a while.

"And for you two," replied Hermione, "In more ways than one. You two deserve a break and a little happiness."

She heard the laugh Harry gave to this reverberate through her ear, which was pressed against him.

"Somehow I doubt that'll happen."

And after he gave this due thought and consideration said, "the break at least."

Catalina awoke early the next morning and lay awake for some time, staring at the canopy of her bed. She examined her emotions carefully - it was the day of the funeral and she was feeling…calm.

She had a plan in her head now, how to act, what to say, what to do afterwards. She knew Harry would help her through it all, in fact she probably wouldn't really be able to do it without him. The ever-familiar wake up call of scratching at the window caught her attention and she walked over to the window in deepening despair. Couldn't there just be a break, for one day at least? Why must he do this every day? She thought he'd get the picture already of two months of unanswered letters, but no…still they came…

She glared at the blackbird with the utmost loathing and snatched away the letter, wondering for a fleeting moment what would happen if she just zapped the bird into the afterlife that instant - would it stop him?

_My dear Catalina. My deepest sympathy for you with the passing of your mother. I will be with you there, if only in spirit. The time will come when we can be together again. Soon._

She shuddered and pushed it deep into her trunk away from prying eyes, remembering what her father had said in the timescape. As she drew out her hand brushed against the mourning veil Ginny had given her, lying forgotten on the top of her past essays. She pulled it out, smiling slightly at the patched look it had, a common trait of most Weasley things, and laid it on her bed. Next she pulled out her newly pressed black dress robes, warm winter tights and black boots, getting dressed quickly in the chilly cold dorm. Hermione was just stirring as Catalina sat in front of Lavenders full-length mirror, carefully brushing her long hair with measured strokes. She yawned widely and slid out of bed, padding over to the small chair and after a moments hesitation, leant down to hug Catalina with a reassuring smile.

"Thanks Hermione," said Catalina staring at her friends reflection in the mirror in front of them, "I'm glad you're here."

"We're all here," she said sleepily, before giving her another smile, "for the next two days at least."

Catalina gave a laugh, and Hermione went about getting ready as well. After a while she picked up the slightly moth eaten veil and placed it on top of her hair, rolling it down slowly - it made her feel uncomfortably claustrophobic and she hoped the funeral wouldn't be for too long. Hermione sat down next to her and placed a veil on her own hair, pulling it down slowly and watching them both sitting motionless in front of the mirror.

"We look ridiculous," said Catalina after a few minutes.

"Like a hag me and Harry once saw at The Three Broomsticks," agreed Hermione.

"How did you know about these things," said Catalina suddenly, "is it a muggle thing too?"

"Sort of, but I read a book on funeral traditions the other day," said Hermione awkwardly.

"Trust you to get the proper background knowledge first," laughed Catalina, "but thanks for the thought. Now, shall we see to what degree of madness is reigning in the boys dorm? Bet the guys aren't even up yet…"

Apparently they were, because when the door was opened to their knocking by Seamus they were greeted by pandemonium. Apparently they had all woken at once and while Ron was desperately trying to work an ironing charm on his permanently creased black robes, Neville was fighting a loosing battle with what looked like giant Venus fly trap. Not only that but Dean seemed to be trying to write his overdue potions essay whilst pinning up a poster that stubbornly fell down after three seconds of unsupported hanging on the wall. Harry was being attacked by a particularly vicious looking eagle owl whom he was trying to throw bodily from the window whilst clutching a half polished boot and wearing a particularly large amount of Enchilada's Ever-Shine shoe polish on his face.

"What is going on?" cried Hermione, trying to be made heard above the din, before rushing over and freeing Neville's hand from the plants slimy grip.

"Nothing," said Ron innocently, as if this was an everyday occurrence in the dorm, which Catalina was inclined to agree with.

"Shoo! Get out of it!" Harry was shouting from the window, pushing the bird over the sill as it beat its mighty wings and attempted to claw his eyes out, "Go on, get out!"

The sounds of Neville whimpering over a purple spotted hand, Deans occasional shouts of curses and begging for help on certain aspects of a concealment potion gave Hermione an instant headache. This mingled with Harry's final yell of triumph as he slammed the window shut and pulled a particularly childish face at the bird, made her make what looked like a prayer to the ceiling for strength.

"What _are_ you up to?" she asked as Harry sat on the edge of his trunk and went to work on his boots again.

"I'm playing Quidditch," he grumbled, "what does it look like?"

She tutted loudly and finally pushed Ron out of the way from his poorly performed ironing charm with the sigh of 'Men' and went to work herself. Catalina sat down next to Harry and studied him as he gave his full concentration to the boot and its lack of shininess. He finally sat back and admired his work through squinted eyes and pronounced them to be perfect before looking over to her with a weary smile.

"Hey, you look nice," he said suddenly, giving her a look as if to say he couldn't quite put his finger on why.

"I'd say you would, but you've got shoe polish all over your face," she said.

He gave a scowl and tried to brush it off, succeeding at smearing it in further and staining his hand too.

"Here," she laughed, leaning forward a wiping her hand across his cheek slowly, the polish magically disappearing.

"Hey, good job," he said with a weak smile, sounding impressed as he checked the mirror, "you've got to teach me that one."

She gave a shrug and picked up his other boot and began to polish, not really feeling in the mood to talk much. Everyone set to work on their new tasks and the melee of noise and activity covered any need for anyone to say anything to Catalina, which was probably a good thing as no one knew quite what to say. Finally they were all ready, looking relatively well polished (boots only) and de-creased and in the proper mourning attire needed for a magical funeral. All that was left was to make their way down to Dumbledore's office, which was unfortunately at the same time as the school was making their way down to breakfast. Harry couldn't remember the last time so much attention and whispering had followed them as they walked down, though he guessed their attire and the girls veil's didn't really help their cause.

Harry reached out and found Catalina's hand lacing his fingers in with her and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"How are you feeling?" he murmured after they walked past the large group of Ravenclaw's.

"I don't know," she replied in a confused sort of voice, "I can't really feel anything at the moment - I don't want to."

They walked in and found two Order members standing with Dumbledore at the fire, all three of which looked impressively sombre in their black attire. Nothing much was said, brief introductions to the members were made before one went through the fire. Hermione and Ron followed before made to step in.

However, as his foot stepped into the tickling, harmless flames, Dumbledore held out an arm and beckoned Harry closer to him.

"I know that it was you who organised this today," he said quietly, so the Order member could not hear, "and I must tell you how proud that makes me feel…"

"Er…thank you Sir," said Harry, feeling embarrassed.

"You must be careful today," he told him, his sombre tone of voice impressing upon Harry the urgency of Dumbledore's words, "I fear not only the Death Eaters could put this situation to their advantage, you must be careful for spies…"

"I understand," said Harry, as his headmaster clapped him on the shoulders.

"Very well Harry," he said, straightening up, "Good luck, and be careful."

"Of course," he said, wondering if Dumbledore really did fear a Death Eater attack, before stepping into the flames, "Five Willows Cemetery."

One bumpy and typically painful floo ride later, Harry stumbled out of an ornate fireplace into a long timber building with a low ceiling and stained glass windows. He straightened up and looked around in wonder, the place was huge and commanded silence like any library or church. It was full of the eerie, mournful singing of a small choir at one end and he looked at the other three in amazement. Ron didn't look that impressed and Harry couldn't see Catalina's face because she was watching the choir, but Hermione looked just as spellbound.

"I've never been in a magical church before," she whispered to him and he nodded in agreement, he'd never really thought much about religion and magical folk.

She must have noticed Catalina pull her veil down because she followed suit and the three of them looked around nervously. No one was there yet apart from them and a few 'undercover' Order members who were sat on the pews in different places. It was then that Harry noticed what would loosely have to be termed the 'vicar', a tall man in black dress robes who was standing at the dais at the head of the hall. He was bent over a large rosewood table which took Harry a few seconds to realise was a coffin.

Catalina squared her shoulders before striding off towards the man as the other three lingered back uncertainly. She must have introduced herself because the two shook hands and held a short conversation as people began to appear through the fireplace. They were mainly couples although some families did turn up and Harry and the other three decided to seat themselves at the front as the place steadily filled up.

Harry saved a seat at the front for Catalina who finally came and sat back down, looking pale faced and nervous from what he could see through the veil.

"A lot of people have turned up," she whispered to him, not daring to look behind herself, "a lot of people I knew…once…"

A unanimous hush descended upon the crowd and the 'vicar' stood up onto the dais, placing his hands upon it and surveying them all intently.

"We are gathered here today to pay our final respects to Mary Branwen Firelight…"

Catalina sat up straight backed and carefully folded her hands on her lap and watched the service with detached interest. She found it help if you blocked out the sounds of people crying and the knowledge that it was your mother lying in the box a few feet away, if you didn't imagine it was supposed to be yourself that was the chief mourner.

However, she could help but let a traitorous tear escape when her mothers best friend stood up to do the reading Catalina had passed up. Anahita had been a family friend since Catalina was about five and she had spent many a weekend living with her and her children in their house in the countryside town of Belanghir. She had read a poem out that stirred something in Catalina that momentarily overrode all bitter feeling she had over her mother, her memory box and her death.

She spoke it in her native tongue and Catalina, feeling sorry for the three who couldn't understand, translated for them in a whisper.

_"You can shed tears that she is gone  
or you can smile because she has lived.  
  
You can close your eyes and pray that she'll come back  
or you can open your eyes and see all she's left.  
  
Your heart can be empty because you can't see her  
or you can be full of the love you shared.  
  
You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday  
or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.  
  
You can remember her and only that she's gone  
or you can cherish her memory and let it live on.  
  
You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back  
or you can do what she'd want: smile, open your eyes, love and go on."_

**A/N:**

**Ok, so I know I usually have a BIT of trouble updating, but this is a record even for me! But as usual I have an award winning excuse – over the summer I went to ****Holland**** to work on an archaeology dig and sadly didn't have my laptop! However, I did manage to begin writing another fic on my flatmates home computer, so check it out if you're **

**Tmctflyboy** – Thanks for the review and for your patience! It will be finished eventually!

**Faith **– Thanks for your review, the writing will continue I promise!

**NewFoundGlory **– Always a pleasure to meet a new reader – nice to know I'm getting some! I didn't really think about Neville and Ginny until now, and have included a few scenes with them in, not including the one above! Don't worry, Ginny in particular will become more important.

**mrs-osborne's-class **– I bet you're even happier so see I've updated this time. Thanks for your review, I realised I needed to include more non Harry/Catalina angst and get on with the plot! And plus its always nice to see Sirius sob and Remus!

**Katy** – I was really touched by your review! There are some parts of this story that really get me choked up but I never really expect other readers to feel it, as I'm so closely involved with the characters. It's really good to know that other people are enjoying it so much! Thanks!

**athenakitty **– As to the million question girl – Dumbledore's nosey with Harry because that's what he does best! Catalina's always nervous – can you blame her? Sirius may or may not live in this story, who knows how well they do in Poland – knowing them it'll be eventful! Your questions are not annoying and yes, they do help! Phew…

**FroBoy **– Thanks man! Will do!

**The Fatadder **– Heya there, long time no communication! Anyway, I loved the duel between them too – can't wait for them to swing into action too! And yes, the letters are coming along, time will tell – let me just give you a deadline – you'll know all about them by the end of Poland. And I know Catalina's gone back to depressing at the mo, but it's a funeral and I couldn't have her laughing now (or could i…) Hope you did well in your August exams and I may see you around Cardiff, I'm visiting uni friend there!

**gina87 – **Thanks! Keep up the reviewing and reading!

Till next time my little hobbits … keep reading, reviewing and EXPANDING YOUR MINDS!

P.S. Anyone got any idea who the Halfblood Prince is (as in the title to book six?)


	32. Firelight Manor and Beyond

**Chapter Thirty One **

**Firelight Manor and Beyond**

And so the service finished, and the choirs last mournful echoes had died away. Catalina found herself standing at the door from the 'church' into the graveyard, shaking hands with all the people coming out. She wanted nothing more than to run away from this place as fast as she could and never look back or remember what it had all been about. But she couldn't do that, instead she was forced to stay there, relive her past lives with all these different people she had either forgotten or lost touch with.

I want to be back at Hogwarts, she thought to herself desperately after giving a wan smile to her mothers old headmaster, even if it's not home it's better than this place. She looked over to Ron and Hermione, sitting on an ornately carved stone bench as Harry leant against the side of it, looking over to her. She knew he'd be watching over her. He made the slightest motion of his head that seemed to ask how she was baring up. She gave him a half-hearted shrug.

"I'm deeply sorry for your loss," came a voice from beside her.

"Thank you, I appreciate you-" she began, before halting when she saw who it was.

She closed her mouth with a snap, raising her eyebrows at him in both surprise and confusion.

"Dr Rhan!" she blurted out, "what are you doing here?"

"I've come to say goodbye to Mary," her former doctor replied in his usual easy tone, "and please, call me Sanj."

Catalina nodded stupidly, still feeling overly shocked by his presence for some reason - she couldn't really figure out why he was here, did he come to all his patients funerals? When she took a closer look at him she was further intrigued, he was wearing the traditional black robes, but they were open, revealing a crisp black muggle suit underneath. She wondered at this for a few moments before noticing his expression, eyes sad and down-turned, pale faced, giving him an air of one who was deeply troubled.

After all of this study she realised she had not spoken for some time and was beginning to appear rude.

"What are you doing here?" she said in confusion, before realising how she sounded, "sorry, that wasn't well put. I didn't expect you to come."

"I received an invitation off Harry," he began with a comforting smile towards her, "and I would have come anyway, one last goodbye as it were, always the hardest…"

"Off Harry?" she repeated in confusion, before trailing off, taking in what he said.

She got the feeling there was more to his appearance than met the eye and was becoming increasingly suspicious. She glanced over to Harry, who was still watching her curiously.

"Did you know my mother well?" asked Catalina, feeling the familiar squeeze at the heart that talking about her brought on.

"Oh yes," he said in a faraway voice that was edged with pain, "we became good friends during her time at St Mungos…"

"Good friends?" she repeated slowly, beginning to formulate a theory that she was finding hard to accept.

"I am sorry I couldn't do more to save her," he said, changing tack suddenly and taking her by surprise.

"She didn't want to be saved," replied Catalina awkwardly, "but thank you anyway, for everything you did. I'm sure you did your best…"

"Sometimes it's just not good enough though," he said in a quiet voice and Catalina marvelled at this bizarre twist of fate.

"Anyway, I mustn't keep you," he said suddenly, hitching a smile onto his face to replace his former tortured one, "I'm sure you a quite tired of this day now."

"Yes, it's been a long one," said Catalina, regarding him with open wonder now.

"I will keep in touch," he added as he turned away, "make sure you get along ok, it's the least I could do."

"Ok," she replied blankly, as he began to walk off.

She frowned in puzzlement at his bizarre behaviour, not wanting him to leave yet.

"What did she mean to you?" she blurted out suddenly.

Dr Rhan stopped in his tracks and his shoulders sagged slightly. When he turned around, his expression said it all.

"More than you'll ever know," he replied looking a lot older and more tired than she remembered him ever looking.

Catalina stood stock-still, unsure as how to take this news.

"Did she love you back?" she finally asked tremulously.

"She loved your father very much," he replied in a heavy yet sincere voice, before turning round and walking away.

Catalina watched him go feeling oddly affected by this news. She abandoned the doorway and found herself an identical bench to Ron and Hermione's, lowering herself into it and taking the weight off her shaky legs. How was she supposed to take this sort of news? She couldn't tell whether she was happy or angry about it but finally decided she felt sad.

Sad for her mother because there was someone good and kind that had loved her, sad for herself for the mess her life was left in now, but most of all sad for Dr Rahn who had found love and lost it, without it ever having been returned.

"Fletcher, anything to report?"

"Potter's with Firelight as we speak," replied the tall man leaning against a nearby tree surveying the couple.

"What's your exact location?"

"Well I personally am standing against a tree," he said sarcastically, "but they're outside the northern door, sitting on one of the Brannigan's Benches - you know the one, got an angel with a dodgy wing."

"What are they doing?"

"Just sitting there," he replied, casting a glance around the surrounding area surreptitiously, "looking pretty cosy actually. She's just been speaking to a Dr Sanj Rahn BS, MSA, _apparently_ he had a bit of a thing for Mary Firelight."

"Really? We'll have to look into that - What is happening now?"

"Well, we've got one coffin at the bottom of an open grave so it's soggy sandwiches and sour wine for the rest of the afternoon until we can all bugger off home and the grave diggers can get to work," replied Fletcher cockily, rolling himself a sneaky cigarette.

"A bit more respect wouldn't go amiss Fletcher," interjected a third, authoritative voice.

"Sorry Silvia," replied Fletcher meekly, "just getting a little bored over here - never did like funerals myself."

"They're not meant to be enjoyed," she replied in annoyance, "just pay attention and keep an eye out will you, I'm sure even you can manage that for one afternoon?"

"Of course, right you are boss," replied Fletcher, signing off and rolling his eyes.

I'd be done for being a pervert if I did this any other time he thought disdainfully as he watched the couple on the bench, listening to perimeter checks being called out between guards.

Harry found himself standing on the threshold to the deep pit, at the bottom of which lay the coffin, looking tiny and sad in its final resting place. Ron and Hermione was stood with him, looking down in silence with Catalina. Outside it was pale and chilly and the sunshine was shining bleakly onto them all, it seemed there was nothing anybody could say, so they said nothing at all.

Ron and Hermione shared a look and unanimously decided to walk to the side of the wide of the cemetery where most of the mourners were now congregated. Harry watched them leave before standing next to Catalina, who was staring at a white envelope in her hand.

"Everything I ever wanted to say," she stated with a dry laugh and she spiralled it between her hands, "but never got the chance…"

Harry nodded and watched her throw it into the hole, landing in the gap between the coffin and the wall of earth, lodged awkwardly between flowers and gifts and talismans that several of the mourners had thrown in.

"I don't suppose she'll read it," said Catalina, before sighing heavily.

"No," replied Harry in an equally despondent tone, "I suppose not."

They stared for a long while in silence and all around them was the low chatter of foreign voices and the whisper of the brisk wind in the willow trees.

"Listen, go get yourself something to eat or whatever," she finally said, "I'm just going to - hang out here for a while…"

"Ok," he said, already walking away and giving her a chance to herself.

He leant against one of the huge willow trees near the edge of the cemetery a sipped on a glass of wine that had just walked by on a levitated tray. All in all it had been a good service, Catalina seemed to handle it well and there was no sign as of yet of any kind of Death Eater attack or spies of any sort Dumbledore had worried about. The biggest shock of the afternoon had been finding out Dr Rahn's feelings for Catalina's mother, which was sad yet not shocking - he'd almost already known.

After a while he began to survey the large crowd of black robed mourners with an uncomfortable feeling. He couldn't understand any of them and he had lost Ron and Hermione. Catalina he noticed had now left the graveside and was talking animatedly with the short witch of African origin that had read the poem in the church, looking the happiest she had all day. He guessed it must have been a family friend Catalina was fond of. Meanwhile, Ron and Hermione were chatting quietly to what Harry recognised as one of the undercover Order guards who was leaning against one wall. Although they were all in disguise, once you knew what you were looking for, it was really quite easy to spot them around. Harry counted five or six in his immediate vicinity.

He watched the ebb and flow of the tide of guests, not recognising any faces but intensely aware of one thing. That this was what Mary Firelights life boiled down to, a table of soggy sandwiches and a group of foreigners who knew no one else except for their common link, who was currently six feet under.

He tried to rub a bit of life into his arms that were slowly freezing in the late autumn weather, even though he was wearing thick black robes. He noticed a movement just out of his field of vision before turning and seeing a tall man walking up to him.

"Harry Potter," he stated, holding out his hand to him, "what a pleasure. My name is Arthur Doyle."

Harry paused for a moment before shaking the mans hand, taken aback by his sudden appearance and feeling slightly uncomfortable around the man who was looking at him in the same way a shark would look at its next meal. It was a firm handshake that felt like it cracked several bones in his hand. He however didn't give any indication of anything out of the ordinary.

"Nice to meet you…Mr Doyle," he said with a quick smile, trying to cover up his suspicion.

"Yes…yes…Terrible business," he said, shaking his head in the manner of a dodgy plumber.

"You knew Mary Firelight?" asked Harry politely.

"Oh yes, I knew her all right, else what would I be doing here?" he said with quick wit and a dry laugh.

"How did you meet?" continued Harry, liking the man less and less.

"Oh, let's just say we were in the same line of work," he said with a sly smile and an even slyer look in his eyes.

"I see," said Harry neutrally.

Even if he drew himself up to full height the man stood in front of him was a head taller, and even more so if you counted the air of authority he exuded. With a handlebar moustache and violently parted, slicked hair he was a man Harry felt inclined to distrust on sight alone, let alone his oily tones. And it was his voice that bothered Harry the most - it irritated him slightly in a way that meant he couldn't quiet follow with what he was saying.

The man took a glass of wine from a passing tray and took a sip, his posture refined and that of a trained gentlemen, before fixing Harry with an unnerving look.

"I must say it's a surprise to see you here Mr Potter," he said, before an innocent look plastered his face, "friend of the family?"

"Friend of Catalina's actually," he said curtly.

"Is that not one and the same?"

"No. They are very much separate categories," replied Harry, forcing himself to keep a civil tongue in his head when faced with this horrible man.

He however, ignored his comments and gestured to the gathering with a solemn wave, "Ah, if you're not here for the family then I guess you're protecting your investments?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well this is a costly little number," said the man nodding impressively around himself again, "and one might ask what such a large chunk of your own family gold is doing missing out of vault that seems to cover this exactly. Funny that."

It was then that Harry knew he was in trouble.

He surveyed his options carefully before replying.

"Who are you?" he asked in measured tones.

The moustache gave a quiver and the man looked mightily pleased with either himself or Harry's quick thinking.

"Maybe the right question is not who I am child, maybe it's _where _I am?"

And then Harry put it together, the strange tinny quality to the voice, the look in the eyes - the use of the word 'child'. He'd heard it not long before this day.

"I could shout out right now and you'd be stunned and captured before you knew what was happening," said Harry as calmly as he could manage, all the time his gaze flicking over to Catalina, who had her back to him.

"But that's not your style though, is it child?" he asked him, lowering his voice now, "No. I can see it in your eyes, you want to be the one to 'bring me down' as it were. Sweet revenge for what you perceive I have done? Well, I'm afraid Mr Potter you're not going to be around long enough to do that - but I suppose we should all have our idle fantasies."

Harry didn't say anything for a few moments, again trying to measure up the situation. Charles Firelight was here in spirit at this very moment and if only he could get the attention of someone without him knowing…

"Try it and I'll slit your throat," he said suddenly and harshly, "magic may have an awkward way of not working on you Mr Potter, but we all know cold steel is quite effective - as my dear daughter proved not so long ago."

Harry again try to way up the possibility that the man in front of him could move fast enough in a crowd of people to do as he threatened. He thought the answer would be no, but he wasn't going to test his theory - it was only 50/50.

"I bet you're real proud of that little show back in May?" asked Harry, "Found out to your cost it's not that easy at making her do things she doesn't want to do?"

"That I did Mr Potter," he said in a cold voice, "though I suppose you're finding that out for yourself as time goes on? My daughter can be a tricky one at best of times, I'd watch myself if I were you."

"Those kind of threats went out of fashion along time ago," replied Harry, eyes flicking over to Ron and Hermione who were with two Order member now, surveying something in another direction in worry. "You obviously don't know her as well as you think."

"Despite your apparent ability to talk about only one thing, or should I say one person, I didn't come here to trade words with you," said Firelight in an overly fake, pleasant tone of voice, "I'll save that for our next meeting."

"Care to tell me what you are doing here then?" Harry asked him, hoping to buy a little time as Ron, Hermione and the Order members had walked off to the source of their worry, "is this an assassination attempt or a just a social visit?"

The mans eyes clouded over at that and when Harry looked into them, he could see Charles staring back out - and it was the gaze of a killer.

"One of your problems Mr Potter is that you always have to believe you are at the centre of the world - it can, and will, function quite well without you," he said, no trace of humour or forced civility now, Harry could hear the harsh tones of Firelight through the voice of the possessed, "I'm afraid you flatter yourself. My only reason for being here is to pay my last respects to my dear wife and check in with my daughter."

"That's rich coming from a man who abandoned them both to either death or homelessness," said Harry cordially.

"Do not presume to make assumptions on what little knowledge you have of a subject. I may have been closer to Mary than you would like to think these past few months."

Harry stared at the man, shocked at his words and trying desperately not to show it. These words chilled Harry to the bone and opened up an alarming number of questions on the details of who Charles Firelight had been and where. Once the question was put to him, the possibilities were endless.

"I severely doubt that you have been anywhere but Europe, prancing about in your masks like good little servants. And I doubt even more that Mary Firelight would have wanted to keep in contact with _you_, not after what you did."

This angered him even more but Harry found it strangely curious that he did not attempt to lash out at himself in anyway. He obviously wanted to keep his profile low.

"Again boy, you presume too much with too little information," said the man, setting down the empty glass and fixing Harry with an evil glare, "Mary was not the innocent bystander she appeared to be."

"What do you mean?" snapped Harry, feeling suddenly cold at his words.

"Do you think I would or could keep the secret of my true occupation from my wife for so long? No, even you could not be that foolish. Mary knew a long time ago the path our family had chosen and supported me like I knew she would."

Harry felt the world beneath his feet becoming very unsteady, very quickly.

"Yes, my dear Aurora inherited her gift of languages from her mother," he said, almost thoughtfully, "it is an _awfully_ useful talent to have, don't you think Mr Potter? I would have been quite lost without her."

"You're lying."

"Doubt if you will. But if you need any proof look no further than the letter my dear Aurora has been carrying around in her pocket for the past week."

Again there was that feeling of standing on top of a very tall cliff that was moving beneath your feet, picking up the pace as time went on. Catalina knew?

"What letter?" was all he managed to ask.

"Written on her deathbed I presume," he said, "Mail has a horrible way of containing bad news does it not? I daresay our dear Aurora has a few more letters she's got hidden away too."

"What are you talking about -" he began, feeling confused.

"Oops. Oh dear, I've gone and said too much," he said pleasantly, bouncing on the balls of his feet in an uncharacteristic display of humour, "and I must cut our chat a little short, and I was having so much fun. I came here to pay my respects to my wife, not to trade words with what I can only severely hope will not be my son-in-law."

"You think I'm going to let you walk out of here?" asked Harry angrily, reviled at the very thought of ever being related to this monster in front of him.

"You forget, _my son_, I am not even here," he said with a pleasant smile and a sharp salute, "but if you want to make a citizens arrest of Mr Arthur Doyle of Essex, then be my guest."

Harry said nothing, knowing that everything that he had just said was true. Harry couldn't do a thing to the person in front of him, because he wasn't even here.

"Why did you even bother showing yourself, you could have got away with just being here?" he asked, as Charles picked up a small sausage roll and scrutinising it closely.

"And pass up the opportunity to speak to the boy who has cost me my daughter, my wife, my position in society, my colleagues and my estate?" he asked, expression now once of intense hatred.

Harry stared back with equal dislike.

"Send my love to Catalina will you? And tell her from me it's a _red letter_ day tomorrow? I'm sure she wouldn't even mind showing you her mothers letter, I'm sure it straightened a few things out for her."

With a small wink and a triumphant smile the man in front of his disapperated and Harry was left glaring at empty space. Wasting no time, he ran over to Ron, Hermione and the order member that was with them, who were still staring worriedly at something in the distance.

"Firelight was just here," he said, slightly breathlessly as he skidded to a halt in front of them.

"What?" asked the man instantly, looking tense and alert.

"He possessed someone who came to the funeral," he said quickly, "he apparated a few seconds ago…"

The man gave a nod and bustled off without another word, leaving Harry with the other two who were also looking tense a worried.

"What did he say?" asked Ron quickly, with another anxious look over his shoulder.

"Not a lot, just being generally threatening," said Harry in a low voice, as Hermione's veiled gaze flicked over her shoulder, "but listen. I don't think we should tell Catalina, there's no point…right?"

"Definitely," mused Hermione, taking Harry by surprise slightly by agreeing with him, "Not now anyway…"

Ron agreed in a half-hearted way, more interested in what was happening behind him.

"What is up with you two?" asked Harry suddenly, sidetracked by their shifty looks, "What are you looking at?"

Hermione stepped closer to him and he could just about make her features under the black veil, "There are reporters at the gate causing trouble," she whispered quietly.

Harry looked over their shoulder's instantly and saw that they were right, there was Ruby Goldwing and her photographer shouting through the bars of the gate, obviously trying to get hold of Catalina. He looked across the cemetery for her and saw that she was talking with a tall African man and completely oblivious to the couple at the gate.

"The Order members have called in someone to remove them," said Ron, also in a quiet voice as the three turned to look at the gate, "but they're taking their time about it."

"They've got enough photos for their edition by now anyway," said Harry bitterly, "they must want an interview now."

"Yes, lets not worry about them," Hermione said nervously, taking another peak back t the gate before they walked back towards the grave.

"Where's Catalina?" asked Ron suddenly, looking around himself almost panicked.

Harry also looked around quickly, soon finding her leant against a tree off towards the edge of the cemetery.

"What do you think?" asked Hermione ambiguously.

"About what?" Harry replied, continuing to watch Catalina.

"The funeral," she gestured hopelessly, "how do you think she's taking it?"

Harry gave a shrug, not really knowing the answer, and not feeling like he'd want to answer even if he did. Hermione shot Ron and sidelong look that he couldn't fail to miss.

"I don't think it'll hit her till later," said Harry awkwardly, "and as long as she doesn't hear about her dad or Ruby, we should be ok…"

"Yeah, tell us what happened," said Ron, looking around himself worriedly.

"I'll tell you later," Harry said in a distant voice, "listen, I'm just gonna go and see…you know, if she's ok…"

"Right," nodded Hermione briskly, pulling Ron away by the arm.

Harry walked up behind Catalina, who was still leaning against a tree and watching the scene through the wide valley in front of her. He was slightly hesitant, not knowing if she wanted to speak or if she wanted some time alone.

"It's ok," he heard her say though, when he was a few metres behind her, "Come and stand with me if you want."

He gave a slight smile at her perceptiveness, and leaned against the tree beside her, unsure what to say.

"I saw the reporters," she said offhandedly after a while.

"You did?"

"Yeah, didn't really feel like giving an interview though…" she said with a dry laugh.

"They shouldn't have been here," said Harry.

"Just like my father shouldn't?" she said.

Harry felt his mouth drop open in shock at her words, and he turned to her, unable to splutter out any question. She also turned to him and after a quick look around, pulled her veil off of her face, giving him a smile that contained no humour.

"I thought he'd turn up," she said thoughtfully, "I saw you talking to him."

"How did you recognise him, he was in someone else's body again…" he said in amazement.

"You don't live with someone for sixteen years and not know how they hold themselves," she told him, before noticing his expression and giving a slight shrug.

"You're not angry with me are you?" he asked her worriedly, "for not telling you?"

"No," she said with another shrug, "I can't really feel anything at the moment. I just don't care anymore. He got anything interesting to say?"

Harry studied her for a few seconds, wondering how much he should tell her about what he knew and she sensed his reluctance and stood up a bit straighter.

"What?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

"He talked about your mum a lot," Harry said awkwardly.

She gave him a long steady look and he could see a slight suspicion in her eyes. Harry wondered about the letter Firelight talked about, whether Catalina had read it and was now keeping the contents secret from him. He was almost sure she knew that he knew, if was now a waiting game to see who would crack first, who would bring up the letter.

"Come on," she said suddenly, reaching over and taking his hand, "I want to show you something."

Slightly thrown off track by the change of events, he followed her mutely as she led them to the perimeter fence of the cemetery, with a flick of her wrist she bent the bars apart and squeezed through, pulling Harry with her.

"Where are we going?" he asked as they moved through the undergrowth and onto the small brick road.

"You'll see when we get there," she told him, still striding ahead, pulling him in her wake.

"Where?" he asked, but his question fell on deaf ears.

They walked down the pavement of the small village, kicking the leaves that were swirling about their ankles as Harry fretted.

"We shouldn't leave the safety of the Order," he said, "where are we going?"

"We'll be safe," she said quietly.

Catalina stepped off the road suddenly, pulling him with her and walked towards a pair of wrought iron gates, that were as tall and impressive as they were thick and dangerous looking. She dropped his hand and reached out towards the gates, drawing herself against them and staring through the bars. Harry followed suit and looked at the house in front of him down a long sweeping drive.

It was old, very old, and had an air of ancient magic surrounding it that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He looked up at the impressive edifice, all bruise-colour bricks and slate grey roof. Most of the windows were smashed in now and the shutters were hanging off, but Harry had a feeling this house was once well lived in.

"Do you remember when we first met, and you asked me where home was?" she asked him quietly, staring longingly through the bars.

"Yeah."

"Well…home is here."

Harry didn't say anything, eyes travelling to an old brass plate screwed to the wall holding the gate that was now weathered and dull looking. The words _Firelight Manor_ were clearly visible and another chill chased up Harry's spine - the place did not have a welcoming feeling.

"I thought it was being done up to live in?" he finally asked when the silence had stretched for too long.

"It was," she said.

"But it looks like its been standing derelict for years."

"It was fine last I saw of it," she said with a look up to the smashed porch, "it's amazing what a couple of bricks and a grudge can do to a building."

"Huh?"

"Vandals," she said bitterly, "not that I care."

"Oh…Have you been inside?"

She shook her head, "Not since I was one, I've seen pictures though…"

Harry nodded slowly and stared up at the house, it was like something from a bad horror movie, the trees had lost their leaves unnaturally early this year and the branches were withered and creaking. The whole place exuded a sense of hostility or ill will, though he couldn't place a finger on what one thing did this.

"You want to go in?" she asked him, face still pushed through the bars.

No. No he didn't want to go in. If their was ever a place that said 'stay out' to him, it was this one. But Catalina seemed to actually want to step inside the gates, actually seemed to _want _to walk around that place. He didn't say anything, merely pushed the gate open, the heavy black chain coiling to the ground with a loud clank, matching the sound of the creaking hinges. Very horror movie.

After the gate had fully sung open they looked down the path which was alive with swirling dead leaves. After a thoughtful minute or so, she started to walk forward, boots crunching on the gravel driveway as he followed behind her.

"It's a bit spooky isn't it?" she whispered to him as they approached the front porch.

"Just a bit," he agreed.

They stood in front of the large oak door, complete with carved coat of arms. She ran a finger across the raised shield, a Gryffindor lion on a background of curling flames licking the edges of the woodwork.

"Pretty huh?" she said sardonically.

Harry didn't say anything and watched on in silence as she leant forward and rubbed a finger over in curiously.

"Lovely catchy family motto hey?" she said to him, "_Dum__ spiramus tuebimur_ - While we breathe, we shall defend. Doesn't actually say _what_ we defend…"

She gave a dry laugh and pushed the door. It was already open and creaked back disturbing a mass of rubble, rotten wood and parchment that had built up inside the doorway. She squared her shoulders and walked in, closely followed by Harry, who for some reason felt it necessary to slip out his wand.

To say that it had large impressive windows there wasn't much light in the place and as they stumbled across the rubble along the floor Catalina found it necessary to let out a few curses.

A few seconds later she had a ball of gold flame held in her hands. Harry couldn't help but let out a few curses of his own when he saw the place - it was _huge_. The stone lined walls went up into the gloom of the vaulted ceiling and standing in the centre of the room was the most impressive spiral staircase he'd ever seen. It was like the old manor houses seen on tv in period dramas, but with a bit of a gothic twist.

"Impressive," muttered Catalina, shifting the light into her other hand as she craned her neck to the ceiling, "Typically them though."

"What do you mean?" asked Harry, stepping around a large chunk of fallen stone that had some graffiti tag painted across it.

"The Firelights, my _family_, went in for this sort of thing - towers, arches, stone, coats of arms…its so bloody pathetic," she said, for the first time sounding very English to Harry, he guessed she must have picked that up from Ron because it was in his accent.

"To say they come from the most noble family of Hogwarts and they all turned out to be dirtier than the Slytherin's. At least they're obviously evil…" she murmured as the place demanded quiet, "Chuh. The lot of them. Did you know apparently my Great-Great-Granddad passed a law for the segregation of lycanthropy sufferers from childhood. What does that say about the type of person he was?"

"Remus wouldn't like to hear that," said Harry avoiding answering the question.

"Remus already knows," she told him, as she pushed through into another room, "that's why I was so worried about meeting him back at the Gatehouse this summer. "

"How do you know?"

"I know," was all she said, "you can see it in his eyes. Anyway, you saw the way he reacted when he found out you were friends with me."

"How did you -"

"Hermione," she told him with a ghost of a grin, "Anyway, father wasn't much different was he? Remember what happened when he found out Remus was a werewolf?"

"He kicked him out of Auror training," Harry recollected.

"It's the whole reason were supposed to be mortal enemies," she added, with a small laugh that echoed around the walls of the building spookily.

"Reckon the stairs would hold us?" she asked, staring at the large spiral staircase in front of them that seemed to be carved out of one mahogany timber.

"Let's find out," he said, stepping on the bottom step, before being satisfied they weren't going to plummet to the ground, made their way up.

When they reached the landing it joined onto a huge long corridor, that was covered in sleeping paintings of various black haired dignitaries dressed in varying fashions and style of wizarding dress. They came across one of someone that looked suspiciously like Charles Firelight, but had gained a severe black toothbrush moustache. He was standing tall and staring at them with glinting black eyes. Harry guessed it must have been a wizarding painting, because the wild dog whose head the mans hand was perched on was snarling loudly, yet the figure was unmoving.

"Presenting Great-Grandfather Adrastos," said Catalina with a sneer, "I guess the werewolf must be a private joke…"

"I'm thinking you got the good genes of your family Catalina," said Harry with a slight shiver.

"You won't be saying that when I'm in a bad mood," she laughed, the noise of which bounced around the corridor loudly.

"I'm surprised no-one guessed about your dad, coming from the background he did and the looks of this place," said Harry, looking around at the other scary looking ancestors.

"This place didn't always look like this," she said in a faraway voice, "I've seen pictures…full of light and silver, expensive crockery, tapestries, servants…And you should know by now that my father can be very…_persuasive_, acting must run in the family. Anyway, he was an Auror and we're Gryffindor's, which always counted for something."

Harry didn't say anything, the bitterness in her voice was enough to tell him she wasn't particularly enjoying her grand tour.

"I wonder what's in here?" he asked, hoping to distract her attention as they reach a large oak carved door.

She took hold of the brass doorknob, taking a deep breath before pushing the door open widely and looking in from the threshold. It was an immediate change from the rest of the house as this time the boards covering the window had been partially broken and the light from outside was streaming in. It caught the flecks of dust in the air and illuminated one corner where the plaster was coming away from the wall with mould that gave the room its characteristic smell.

The walls were painted with scenes that were reminiscent of what a woodland should have looked like, with tall elegant trees with various magical creatures hidden amongst the foliage. It would have been a beautiful sight if the paint hadn't have been flaking away and moulding, and Harry's gaze followed a fairy which was fluttering in between the leaves of one tree for some time, amazed how it could fly with wings as non-existent and mildewed as they were.

Harry then noticed the only piece of furniture that was present in the vast room and gave Catalina an unsteady look. She seemed transfixed by it and walked over slowly, as if dreamwalking. She ran a hand across the ornately carved headpiece that had been painted some years ago now. There was a small mobile hanging above the cot with various planets hanging off which she gave an experimental nudge with one finger. It spun around arthritically and clanked out a few notes of some kind of lullaby tune.

As the notes died away painfully Catalina continued them in a soft hum, leaning on the bars heavily now and placing her chin on her folded arms. When her song finally died away, she stood up and Harry wondered if he should say something. He opened his mouth, but no sound came, so he merely stood back and watched as she looked at the mobile for a few more seconds, before striking out and knocking it to the bottom of the cot quickly.

"Let's go," she said, striding out without another backwards look.

She bypassed the rest of the unopened doors and hurried down the staircase with Harry in tow, trying to evaluate in some way her reaction to her room. Harry's thoughts however were back with the letter she was carrying - was it true about Mary Firelight? Was she really more involved than they had all realised? Would Catalina have told him or would it be another secret?

Catalina was making her way towards the front door, tripping over the pieces of fallen masonry when Harry stopped. Secrets were what caused this whole mess from the beginning, they'd promised no more secrets. He could feel himself getting irrationally angry at her - why was it ok for her to have secrets but not him?

"What's in the letter?" he blurted out suddenly.

She froze in her tracks and Harry watched her silently. After a few moments looked slowly to her right before standing up straighter and resting a hand against her pocket momentarily. She couldn't seem to answer him, and this, if possible, made it worse.

"We're you going to tell me?" he asked, hoping his guess at what it said wasn't right, but judging from her reaction it probably did.

Again she didn't say anything.

"Well, were you?" he pressed, walking over to her.

"What is there to tell?" she asked him quietly.

"I don' know," he said in measured tones, "you tell me."

She refused to look at him and watched the doorway for a long moment until he thought maybe he ought to try again as she obviously wasn't going to answer. However, she looked across to him, chin raised proudly but eyes containing fear.

"Would it make any difference between us?" she asked him.

"No," he said instantly, "do you even have to ask that?"

"Well why does it matter then?" she questioned, "why do you need to know?"

"Because that's the way this thing works!" he told her in a much louder voice than he'd intended.

In the ringing silence they both pondered what he meant by 'this thing'.

"Sorry," he apologised a few moments later, "it's just…I thought we said no more secrets…"

"Of course," she said, before shaking herself and repeating more confidently, "of course. I wasn't keeping anything from you, no matter what my father might say. I - I only opened it this afternoon."

"Oh, right," Harry said blankly, feeling slightly foolish for getting annoyed.

She pulled the letter out of her pocket and flipped it between her finger a few times. It looked extremely dog-eared as if it had been handled many times before this moment.

"I've been too scared to open it," she admitted finally, before laughing bitterly, "and to think I was worried about her explaining about the memory box…"

"What did it say?" he asked her tentatively.

She opened her mouth to speak but snapped it closed and looked around suspiciously. He looked around too, wondering if she thought someone was listening, but she merely beckoned him over to the kitchen. They walked in and she soon located a large pantry that was stocked high with jars and barrels that were smelling well past their sell-by-date. Once inside, she snapped the door shut and flicked the gold ball of flame onto the floor.

"Sit down a sec," she instructed, handing him the envelope.

He sat on an upturned barrel and watched in silence as she walked to the door. She pressed her two hands flat to it and closed her eyes as Harry wondered wildly what she was doing. She was seemingly trying to push the door open yet after a few seconds he realised it couldn't be the case because she began to mutter some kind of incantation.

He hadn't seen her do new magic for a long time so watched in fascination as small tendrils of red light began to spread out from under her hands. They circumscribed the room as she continued to mutter under her breath in a very foreign tongue indeed, joining up in a complex lattice work that looked like an iron cage, save for its colour.

Soon the bars of lights had made their way back to Catalina's hand, forming a sort of knot. As she finished her mutterings and pulled away her hands he noticed there was a key-shaped glow of gold in her hands. She sat down on the barrel across from him looking suddenly drained yet pleased with herself.

"It's a secrecy cage," she said in explanation to his unasked question, "it's not really used much in the West, but in China they're very big in the, ah, more dishonest of the population."

"Dishonest in what way?" he asked, corners of his mouth twitching slightly.

"Well, its always been nicknamed the Sneak-Thieves Friend," she explained as if it was an everyday occurrence that she locked people up in old haunted manor houses, "But, most people just called in The Cage. But, and here's the good bit - Completely impenetrable to listening devices, charms or spells, nothing gets in and nothing gets out - not without the key at least."

"And why do we need to be sitting in here?" he asked.

"Because, I have something to tell you that must never leave this room, _ever_," she said earnestly and with such seriousness the slight smile was wiped off Harry's face in an instant, "You've got to promise me that this never leaves your head. Don't even think about it after today, and _never _tell anyone."

"Of course," he said instantly, knowing fully well that this was true and what Firelight had hinted at was true, "I promise."

"Ok…here goes," she said in a nervous voice, "she explained a few…things, things that make a lot of sense anyway."

Harry leaned forward, also still feeling the need for secrecy now and waited for her to continue. She merely looked down at the letter he was still holding, and pulled it gently out of his hands, unfolding it slowly and scanning it. Harry knew what was coming, Firelight had told him as much that morning, but somehow he hadn't believed him. He just couldn't picture Mary Firelight being in on it, not after how ill she became when she found out. The photo's of her had always been of a sweet looking woman, not that of a Death Eater.

"She wanted to tell me something of her past," began Catalina in a faraway voice looking down at the writing, "something that would explain everything."

Harry held his breath.

She sighed and toyed with the corner of the letter before her features suddenly clouded over, "She knew."

Harry tried to look suitably shocked and clueless at the same time and asked in a low voice, "She knew?"

Something flickered in Catalina's eyes for a second before she spread out the letter across her knees and slowly pulled a loose thread on her mourning veil.

"She knew 20 years ago about my father, what he was - what he was doing. She married him knowing it," she whispered, and Harry could hear the disbelief in her voice.

Harry didn't know what to say and gave her a confused look, but she wasn't watching. She continued to pull at the thread and the veil began to unravel at the bottom and Harry could see a small well of tears build up in her bottom eyelid.

"She knew…" she said slowly, before fixing him with an angry look, "She knew…and she _helped_ him."

Harry mouth dropped open with no instruction from the brain for acting, he was genuinely shocked to hear that Firelight had been telling the truth. Catalina had more tears in her eyes now, but was steadfastly refusing to let them fall.

"Can you imagine what it's like to find something like that out?" she managed to choke out in disbelief, "to hear that your own mother, _my _mama, was a criminal? A thief, a cheating, lying, evil, _one of them_?"

Harry gave a heavy sigh and shifted closer so he could put her arm around her shoulders. She gave a small sniff and lay her head on his shoulder.

"She was a Death Eater?" he asked, as if he needed confirmation.

"I don't know," she muttered, "if she wasn't one of them, then she certainly helped them…"

"Well…It's all in the past now," he told her, not knowing how else he could comfort her, "it's all in the past…"

She brushed away her tears angrily, seemingly determined not to cry for the cause. She unfolded the letter and lay it across their knees, pointing to a piece of foreign looking writing that was about as legible as the rest and was slightly water stained. It seems Mary Firelight wrote it before her strength left her, but the telltale scrawl told Harry it wasn't long before her death.

"There's more," she told him, mumbling into his shoulder.

"More?" he asked, shifting uncomfortably.

"When we moved back to England and when we were attacked in Hogsmeade last Halloween, she realised that my father was out of control. She didn't understand why he was threatening me," she said, swallowing slightly and lowering her voice until a whisper, "So…so she did a Snape."

"What?" asked Harry, feeling completely confused.

"She turned spy for the Order."

Harry was completely floored by this statement and started up, jostling Catalina off his shoulder, "You what?!"

He was now kneeling in front of her and she was searching his eyes for something before she continued.

"She was passing information almost a year before she died," she said, with a strange glow of pride in her eyes, "It was because of her we got so much information about the attack they were planning the night you raided them with the Order."

"What…Why -," began Harry, before trying to collect his thoughts, "Why didn't Dumbledore tell us?"

"Dumbledore didn't know, nobody did," she told him, pointing to another part of the letter, "she did it in secret, through letters and through other people…"

"So the Order knew about your father all the time and didn't tell us?" asked Harry incredulously, feeling mounting anger.

"No," she whispered shaking her head, "she didn't tell them about him, because she still loved him and was trying to protect him…"

She looking incredibly bitter as she said this and Harry genuinely couldn't think of anything to say. So Catalina's mother had been helping the Death Eaters, but she'd also been helping the Order?

"Dumbledore must have known…" said Harry finally, "he knows _everything_…"

"You're forgetting my father would never have married an average run of the mill witch…she may not have been a magus, but good as. If my mama hadn't wanted anyone to know it was her, they wouldn't, and not even Dumbledore could have found out..."

"Oh," he said, head reeling from all the information.

Catalina lay the paper on the floor and set fire to it with a well-practised fire spell and they both watched it burn away and furl into a small pile of ash, which she disappeared with a flick of her hand.

"So where does this leave us?" he finally asked.

"I…I…" she struggled, before shrugging, "Do I hate her for what she was? Or be proud of her for what she became?"

"I don't know," Harry said, wrapping an arm around her again, "I don't know…"

"They know better than to just walk off!" Hermione said anxiously, twisting and wringing her hands in front of her.

"I'm sure they've just gone to get some peace," said Ron, not sounding thoroughly convinced.

"Oh, I just know something's happened…" continued Hermione, completely unmoved by Ron's conviction, "If Firelight was here then who knows what he could have done…who he could be!"

With that she spun around and glared at a tall African wizard standing behind her with such ferocity that he backed away from the sandwich he was attempting to lift of the tray and offered it to her silently. Ron was too worried to roll his eyes at Hermione's melodramatics, probably because he wasn't sure if she was being melodramatic or whether she had hit the nail on the head.

"The Order have been watching them both," tried Ron again helplessly, "they must know what's happened…they know not to let them out of their sight."

"You're right, you're right," Hermione muttered to herself over and over, as if it were a calming mantra, "I'll ask someone…"

And with that she was gone, marching across the lawn to where Silvia was stood guarding the gates and Ron was left scurrying behind her to catch up. He looked around warily as he drew up to the two who were already in deep discussion, wondering if Firelight really was around, he certainly didn't want to get tangled up with that character, he'd heard and seen enough from Harry and Catalina to know he wasn't a pleasant person.

"_Communicate_," Silvia had said as Ron caught up with them, tapping her wand to the palm of her hand, before lifting it to hover in front of her mouth, "whose with Firelight and Potter?"

Hermione and Ron watched her in anxious puzzlement as all was silent, before Silvia gave a smile, "Fletcher's watching over them."

"Where are they!?" demanded Hermione shrilly, looking relieved and now angry at the news.

Silvia relayed this question to her hand and after another few seconds of silence she gave a brief nod, "They've gone over to Firelight Manor. Fletcher is watching over them don't worry, I'm sending a couple more members to get them now, they know better than to wander off."

Hermione nodded her head vehemently and crossed her arms huffily as Silvia walked off to send out the members.

"They never think about anyone else, that's their problem," she told him angrily, "_never_."

"Hermione," said Ron cautiously, not wanting to start an argument, "it's her mum's _funeral_…maybe she just wants to be alone…"

"Well, yes, of course," said Hermione, her features softening slightly at this but maintaining her angry pose, "but that doesn't mean she can put Harry in danger, he knows better than to wander off."

"So you said," muttered Ron to himself, looking across the lawn of dwindling mourners, many of whom were making to leave, "I wonder what they were doing at the Manor?"

"Probably just looking around I guess," said Hermione with a slight smile, who hoped it was more than that.

"What you think they might be-" began Ron before Hermione cut in.

"Hey look, here they come now," she pointed out, motioning to the small entourage of people returning through the bent bars of the fencing.

Three Order members were walking with Harry and Catalina, both of whom were looking angry at having been called back. Harry had his hands shoved roughly in his pockets and was striding quickly, making his guard have to practically skip to catch up.

"Where have you been?" demanded Hermione when they had caught up with them and the members had drifted away.

"_Putting both our lives in jeopardy_," mimicked Harry in a falsetto.

"I only wanted to see the house," shrugged Catalina, also casting an annoyed look back at the guards, "honestly, you'd think we'd just broken out of Azkaban the way they tracked us down…"

"You should know better than to wander off," reprimanded Hermione.

"I know! We get the picture," said Catalina and Harry in unison, causing them all to pause and then laugh.

Ron was about to speak when an almighty echoing bang rocketed through the still, mournful air followed by a flash of red light. He and Hermione had their wand out in an instant, looking for the source of the attack in panic as Harry and Catalina spun around.

"VILE SCUM!" came a shriek through the raised panicked voices of the people gathered, "ENEMY OF PEACE!"

The smoke around the wrought iron gates, the source of the disturbance, had cleared and Ron could make out a small group of people dressed in bizarrely coloured robes waving their wands around.

"What the -," he began faintly, ducking involuntarily as another large banging echo sounded and something red hit the ground not five feet from them.

It erupted in a shower of what he first thought was sparks but which when it hit him, felt more like liquid.

"EVIL SPAWN!" came another loud voice and a third eruption, this time hitting the floor in front of Catalina's feet, who was stood stock still in shock, "ENEMY OF PEACE!"

There was a massive commotion as people shouted backwards and forwards to each other and Order members rushed to the scene. The group at the gate was chanting loudly the same few phrases and Ron could make out the figure of Ruby Goldwing and her photographer snapping away eagerly catching all the excitement.

"Hermione, look after Catalina!" ordered Harry suddenly, his voice trembling with anger.

Hermione responded at once to the imperious tone and was darted forward with a yell, grabbing hold of Catalina to pull her away just as another explosion of red showered her with the vile smelling red liquid. Harry and Ron were shouting too, running towards the gate, wands out, shielding themselves with their arms over their heads from what Harry could only describe as paint bombs.

"MURDERER! TRAITOR! ENEMY OF PEACE!"

Hermione couldn't help but scream when another blast dropped between them and showered not only Catalina but her as well. She was vaguely aware that Catalina was shouting too, but what she didn't know. The Order members were at the gate now and the Magical Law Enforcement Squad must have been notified because moments later wizards and witches in blue and gold robes had also appeared and were restraining the crowd.

"THE BLOOD IS ON YOUR HANDS!"

Hermione turned in panic to Catalina who was stood, shaking with an unnameable emotion as the red potion dripped off her face and robes. She could feel the tears in her own eyes and she looked desperately over to where Harry and Ron were stood, shouting into the crowd while the Order member bustled about them, completely ignoring their shouts.

"Is this blood?" she asked Catalina in a high pitched, slightly hysterical voice.

The other girl merely raised her hands so she could look at them. They were trembling awfully. The mourners who had taken shelter out of reach of the bombs were moving back towards them.

"Catalina? Are you ok?" demanded Hermione, motioning over to Harry and Ron to come back.

She didn't say anything but Hermione noticed she was gulping quickly. She was still staring at her blood-covered hands. Ron arrived first and Hermione shot him a panicked look.

"What's going on?" she asked him in a shrill voice, "Ron, what's going on?"

"Protesters," was all he said, turning to Catalina, "are you ok Catalina?"

Again she didn't reply, or look towards either of them and Ron shot an alarmed look at Hermione. However at that moment Harry returned, skidding across the wet floor towards her, not even looking at the two of them. He placed a hand on either side of her face and forced her to look at him, not saying anything.

This seemed to snap her out of her daze because seconds later she pushed his hands away angrily. She looked at the three of them for a long moment, and Hermione could now see she was shaking with anger not fear or shock.

"_How dare they_!" she hissed, before suddenly moving forward, pushing past Hermione, "_HOW DARE THEY!_"

"Catalina!" yelled Harry, running after her as she strode sprinted across the law, yelling furiously in a foreign tongue he didn't recognise.

There was a long period of complete confusion as he caught up with her at the gates pushing through the Ministry members to get to the protesters. She was screaming and yelling, the crowd were still jeering and chanting, Order members were shouting commands and all the time Ruby Goldwing's photographer clicked away. It was like a mass riot, everyone trying to be heard over everyone else.

"_This is a funeral!"_ yelled Catalina as she reached the bars, "_this is my mothers funeral_! _How dare you disgrace her memory!_"

"MURDERER!" screamed the nearest protester, a woman with a bright yellow scarf wrapped around her head.

"I AM NOT A MURDERER!" she screeched back, magic crackling between her fingers.

"Catalina!" Harry tried, trying to lay a claming hand on her shoulder but finding nothing but air as she darted out of his grasp.

The bars under her hand disappeared and she was pushing her way through when Harry grabbed hold of a fistful of her robes and yanked her back. She stumbled backwards and yelled something harshly to him.

"Don't!" shouted Harry, pulling her backwards.

"_This is a funeral!" _she continued to screech at the crowd, pushing Harry's hand away.

He pulled her back more forcefully this time.

"Get off me!"

She tried to wrench out of his grip but he didn't let go. She twisted more violently, yet he pulled her backwards away from the crowd and the Order members who were unsure as whether to intervene. There was a short struggle between the two as she fought to get free and he fought to keep hold, trying to calm her down as she hissed in her angry, foreign tones.

He managed to hold her against the wall to the cemetery and she was breathing deeply, the blood splattered onto her ashen complexion making her look quite scary.

"Please…You're going to get arrested if you don't calm down!" he told her anxiously, pinning her arms to her sides finally.

"This is her funeral!" she spat, glaring mutinously at him, "How dare they!"

"I know that," he said, trying to sound calming, but was well aware at how panicked his voice was, "but _please _Catalina, just - just _stop_."

She finally stopped struggling and he regarded her warily, unsure as to what she would do next. Hermione and Ron were approaching, wands still out and there was a general lull in the noise level. Silencing charms had been placed on the crowd, who were now being magically bound by the Magical Law Enforcers as Ruby Goldwing shouted questions out to anyone who would listen.

"Let go of me Harry," she said in a low voice, pulling herself out of his grasp easily.

Harry stepped back, quite unsure of what to do and looked over to Ron and Hermione. She was speaking in a low voice with Silvia, who was alternately speaking to Hermione then her own hand whereas Ron was walking over to them looking pale and anxious, red blood spattering his face too.

"Are you ok Catalina?" he asked her anxiously when he arrived, laying a comforting hand on her arm.

"Get off me," she said harshly, wrenching her arm from under his grip.

"Sorry," said Ron hastily, holding his hands up consolingly as she watched the floor for a long time, breathing deeply.

Harry could neither read the emotions on her face or through their connection, it was a mass of turbulence to which he couldn't put a name too. It hurt too much and confused him to such an extent he tried to limit the connection as much as possible, the first time he'd ever purposefully tried to tune away from her.

The truth was she always scared him slightly when she was like this.

"Silvia's sent for Dumbledore," said Hermione when she approached, noticing the way Harry and Ron were huddled together for support against Catalina who was slouched against the wall.

"Good," said Ron vehemently, looking over to the mass of mourners staring at them in shock and curiosity.

"I'm going to go and speak to Goldwing and sort a few things out," said Hermione suddenly, her mouth set in a thin line that was usually saved for the severe reprimands she sometimes gave them.

"What? No!" said Harry instantly, "are you insane?"

"That woman has got away with far too much and there is no way she is going to publish those pictures," she huffed, before stalking away.

Harry and Ron shared a wary glance before Ron shrugged awkwardly, "I should go…and make sure she doesn't do anything too rash…"

He scurried off and Harry watched him go with an uneasy feeling. When he turned back to Catalina he gradually turned up the volume on the connection, trying to figure out how she was taking this and how he could respond without making her more angry. He was almost relieved to feel anger giving way to despair.

"This is her funeral…" she repeated hollowly, "her _funeral_. How could they do this?"

"I don't know," said Harry anxiously, "I don't understand what's happening."

"I want it to stop," she whispered, her face creasing up in pain before she raised her hands to it, "please make it stop…"

"I…can't," Harry admitted, finding the words so hard to say because they were true, he was completely powerless to stop things like the protesters, Ruby Goldwing…everything. He couldn't protect her.

"This is ruining my life," she choked out now, tears carving white tracks into her bloodstained face, "I can't take anymore…"

Harry shifted from foot to foot, he couldn't think of anything to say, all he could think about was the night on the astronomy tower when she had tried to end it all. She leant against the wall heavily, sliding downwards until she hit the floor in a crumpled heap. Harry knelt down in front of her worriedly, looking around and seeing Dumbledore had arrived and was talking with Ron, Hermione and Ruby Goldwing now, shooting glances at him. He made to come over to them both, but Harry shook his head quickly, the last thing she wanted right now was Dumbledore asking questions.

"Why are they doing this to me?" she asked him in a tired, hoarse voice, "I've lost my entire family, my home, my life, my _mind_…you're the only thing I've got left and they'd take that away too if they could…"

"I'm not going anywhere," he assured her anxiously, "they can only take away what you let them."

She nodded quickly, trying no to cry but the traitorous tears escaped and began to splash down her cheeks. Harry sighed and pulled her into an awkward hug as he was sat on his knees and she was spread on the floor. She tried to choke them back and he smoothed down her hair slowly thinking about the day. It had been too eventful for his liking, too many revelations and too much anger and sadness.

"I want to go home now Harry," she whispered in a tired voice.

He never quite knew what she meant by this.

Suddenly a shadow fell across both of them and Harry let go of her and looked up quickly. He nearly fell over with shock when he saw who it was.

"Sirius!" Harry said blankly, scrambling to his feet, "What are you doing here?"

"I heard there was a disturbance," he said, cutting an impressive figure dressed in his Auror's robes with hair pulled back in a neat ponytail.

"How?" asked Harry, looking across to Dumbledore in awe.

"No, not Dumbledore. I was keeping my ear to the ground on this one," he said with a grim smile, "I had a feeling there would be trouble."

"Do you know who they were?" asked Harry quickly, noticing Catalina was still sat on the floor staring blankly ahead.

"Oh yes," laughed Sirius bitterly, "they're professional protesters. Any kind of civil brawl, situation or argument they're there putting across their point…They're usually hired by the Prophet for public events…"

"Figures," said Harry angrily, noticing Sirius had his wand out still, "are you expecting more trouble?"

"Well, since Firelight was here and now we have a large gathering of Ministry members and high placed people from a number of foreign ministries I wouldn't be surprised if they tried something," said Sirius, all the time looking around him, "go and ask Dumbledore for a portkey. I want to get you back to castle."

"But the funeral -" protested Harry half-heartedly.

"- is over," Sirius finished, "now go on, I'll look after Catalina."

Harry was loath to leave her but knew he could trust Sirius almost as much as he could trust himself so he hurried across graveyard to Dumbledore, who was with Hermione and Ron and several Order members.

"Harry, how is she?" asked Hermione anxiously when he approached.

He didn't reply, looking down to what she was clasping in her hands, a camera.

"Ruby Goldwing will not be publishing today's events," said Dumbledore, a strange angry look in his eyes, "she has flouted too many laws this afternoon for this to go unnoticed. There will be consequences."

"Good," huffed Ron and Harry merely nodded, looking over to Catalina and Sirius worriedly.

"I've been sent to get a portkey so we can go home," he told Dumbledore, feeling suddenly anxious and edgy, wondering if Sirius was right about another possible attack.

"Of course," said Dumbledore, noticing Harry's behaviour and creating a portkey out of a sweet from his pocket and handing it over, "we will discuss this matter in more detail once we get back to Hogwarts."

"Right," nodded Harry gratefully, turning to Ron and Hermione, "are you coming back too?"

"Yes," said Ron quickly, looking both tired and dishevelled all at once, "come on Hermione."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully to them and waved them off. They looked across to Catalina, who was being lifted to her feet by Sirius.

"What's Sirius doing here?" asked Hermione in surprise when she saw Harry's godfather.

"Said he heard about Firelight and the protestors and came to see what he could do," said Harry, noticing that Catalina seemed to be talking in low tones with Sirius, fighting back the tears.

He must have said something comforting because he laid an arm on her shoulder and she leant forward gave him a hug. Harry was quite surprised, it was no secret that there was a lot of tension between Catalina and Sirius, but he guessed she was too tired to act today.

"I didn't think he was on shift today," said Ron suddenly, "wasn't he taking Remus to his new transformation spot?"

Harry suddenly felt as if ice had flooded his veins.

"Harry…do you think…?" began Hermione, trailing off in horror as they looked over to where Catalina and Sirius were, back turned to them as they walked off in the opposite direction.

"No…" whispered Harry, feeling as if the world was being pulled away from under his feet very quickly.

The three of them burst into a sprint at the exact same moment. Harry felt as if he was in some kind of horrible nightmare, there was a fire in his mind and he wasn't even aware he was shouting her name - but why wasn't she turning around, couldn't she feel his fear from there?

They had got no further than half way across the cemetery when there was a sudden massive booming echo through the air. The ground beneath them shook and they fell to their knees as it quaked and there was another quick succession of explosions. His first thought was that the protesters had begun again but he suddenly heard the noise between the explosions - screaming.

"Oh my god…" he heard Hermione whispering to one side of him and he turned to survey the scene.

People were running and screaming away from a group of black robed people that were standing around Mary's open grave, throwing curses towards the crowd. Harry pushed himself to feet, a curse already resting on his fingers as another explosion shook the ground again.

He stumbled slightly and saw the Order members, Auror's and Dumbledore sweeping across the grounds towards the Death Eaters.

"We've got to get out of here," shouted Ron about the noise, ashen faced, wand clasped in a shaking hand.

Harry turned around and saw Catalina fighting to get away from whoever was masquerading as Sirius.

"CATALINA!" he shouted, breaking into a sprint once again.

He threw a curse at Sirius and she broke free, running and stumbling across the quaking ground towards him. However, Sirius was still chasing her and he lurched forwards and caught her by the hand.

"HARRY!"

Her shriek carried across the cemetery in a moment of quiet, unnerving calm before there was a sudden 'pop' and he could see nothing but air.

She was gone.

"Catalina!" shrieked someone to the right of him.

He stumbled to a stop, staring at the air feeling as if all the air had been knocked out of his lungs. He felt hands seize the back of his robes and begin to pull him to one side, and his legs stumbled along unresistingly.

She was gone - he'd got her…

There was a sudden booming echo that reverberated right inside his chest and Ron and Hermione, sheltering behind a gravestone, pulled him to the floor. He looked across to the source in a kind of detached wonder. Planks of wood were raining down from the sky above Mary's grave and something wrapped in white linen was being lifted out by two Death Eaters, who disappeared with it in a sudden flash of robes.

Hermione was crying to the one side of him and Ron was talking to him, but he couldn't hear them, he couldn't even see properly. All he could feel was pain, crushing, devastating pain. He climbed to his feet slowly and summoned two balls of green light in his hands.

They weren't going to get away with this, he was going to kill them for what they'd done.

He was about to throw the curses when there was a terrific boom and something large and glittering floated into the sky. Hermione gave a scream and tried to pull Harry back down but he merely stared at the Dark Mark floating above Catalina's mother's grave.

He started to laugh.

Ron was standing in front of him now and Harry looked at him, still laughing, even harder now at the expression on Ron's face.

"Stop it Harry."

He'd lost Catalina, Catalina had lost her mother, her mother was a Death Eater, her parents were the reason his were dead…Ron shouted at him, maybe in anger, maybe in fright and when he didn't reply Ron pushed him roughly in the chest. He stumbled backwards and hit his head against the wing of the angel gravestone they were stood behind.

"They'll see you and kill you," said Ron, his voice shaking.

"I'm dead already," he said in a voice that chilled to the bone.

Suddenly there were people around them, Order members were hurrying them away, pushing them forward away from the Death Eaters. Surrounded in a wall of red robes Harry was a mess of emotions, not knowing what to do next. Hermione was tugging on the sleeves of his robes crying, speaking to him, words of comfort?

Then Dumbledore was there and Hermione was crying to him - "They took her! They got her, Sir…Sir she's gone!"

"I'm sending you back to Hogwarts," he said, motioning for the three of them to stand together within the circle of Order members, "wait in my office for me."

He passed them his pocket watch. Harry guessed it must have been a portkey because everyone else stood back.

"Harry," said Dumbledore, blue eyes searching his, "we'll find her."

Harry looked into the eyes of the old man as the clock ticked down. He gave the slightest imperceptible shake of his head. When the second hand rested on the six there was the familiar tug behind the navel and his feet left the ground.

**AN****/ Again I find myself apologising for the time taken to update, and again I use the same excuse – I'm at university! I hardly have time to breathe, let alone write my fanfiction! But here's another helping for you all – how did you like it? Comments and suggestions always welcome!**

**First reviewer will be my 300th! And will get a special mention!**

**Thanks to **The Fatadder, FroBoy **and** gina87 **you all for reviewing!**


	33. Dreams Come True

** Chapter Thirty Two **

**Dreams Come True **

Ron was sat on the windowsill of Dumbledore's office watching the school go about their business, completely unaware of the turmoil going on within their world at that very moment. They were worried about stupid things like whether they'd be late for dinner, whether that girl in their other class liked them, their homework for that evening…

Not whether one of their best friends was dead.

They had been back only two minutes, but it felt like lifetime. Nobody had spoken, he didn't know what to say that would be any comfort to both Harry or Hermione. Time crawled by slower than he'd ever felt it do before and he looked over to Hermione, who was curled up on one of the deep couches, trying to cry as silently as possible. She was biting her nail and staring ahead of her. Ron wanted to comfort her, but he didn't know how.

Ron looked across to Harry, slightly afraid of what he'd see. There was a fire crackling in the grate and Harry was stood in front of it, his back to Ron. He was standing straight backed with his arms held stiffly at his sides, a mass of black robes which was silhouetted against the flames. He watched his best friend staring into the flames in silence, wondering what on earth he could possibly be thinking - if he was at all. He acted like she was dead already. Did he know something they didn't? Could he feel it perhaps…

He had never seen the side of Harry he had seen out in the graveyard. He'd seen him angry, upset, annoyed, furious, but he'd never seen him…The expression on his face when Catalina disappeared, the tone of his voice, the unforgivable curses he'd held in his hands. The laughter…

As a child Ron had vividly imagined the scene when the notorious murderer Sirius Black was hauled off to Azkaban laughing and when he'd found out Sirius was innocent, he'd always wondered. Why laugh?

Ron shuddered and pulled his eyes away from his best friend and looked at the clock. They'd been here four minutes…

Harry watched the flames dance in front of his eyes, almost mesmerised by them and the feeling of misery, of howling despair, of grief too strong to take, of the burden of another loss. He wanted to scream, he wanted to destroy the part of him that made him feel like this, he didn't want to feel anymore.

He wanted to go to sleep. He wanted to have nightmares. He wanted to see what was happening to her so he'd know where she was, that she was still alive, that he could go and find her. He didn't care what or who he'd see, he just had to know. He wanted to feel the pain of the horrible visions, anything that would prove what he already believed was wrong.

His scar had been burning steadily ever since they'd got back to the office and for once Harry didn't mind. He relished the fact the Voldemort was angry, maybe this meant she'd escaped…He didn't truly believe that for a second, wondering if the pain wasn't because he was angry, but because he was happy.

Dumbledore had told him that Voldemort would stop at nothing to weaken Harry, that he would fight his war just as much psychologically than with curses and wands, that that would be how he would get at him. He'd always known they were in danger, but had he ever believed them?

He felt sick, his throat was tight as he thought back to that time he'd seen her. Shrieking his name as she was taken by the person he'd assured himself he'd trust over himself. Where was the real Sirius, had he gone to find her?

He couldn't stand another moment of being in this room, of staring at this fire, of hearing nothing but the faint sound of laughter, the crackle of flames and Hermione crying. But he couldn't imagine what else he could do, so he stayed. He watched the flames, he didn't make a sound, he didn't cry because on the inside he was raging more in grief than he could ever produce in the real world.

She's not dead, Hermione pleaded with herself, trying to make herself see sense. We don't know anything's wrong with her, Dumbledore will find her, everything will be ok…She tried to sniff as quietly as possible, staring at the same patch of frayed rug she'd been since they got there, going over the events in her head.

She tried to look at it rationally - Catalina had been with someone that was impersonating Sirius, that person had kidnapped her, Harry hadn't had a vision, so maybe Voldemort hadn't got to her yet. However, the rational part was overcome with her emotions - how could she be so naive to think that Catalina wouldn't be killed given the first chance - what would there to be gained from keeping her alive?

At this harsh, unfeeling voice in her own head Hermione gave a choked sob, unable to keep it down. She felt alone and trapped, she couldn't even cry freely - no one was showing any sign that the events were affecting them. Ron was just sitting at the window and all Harry was doing was watching the fire - why weren't they upset? Why weren't they crying? Why was Harry just _standing_ there, doing nothing?

She let go, not caring if the others could hear her cry, they _should_, they should know how to feel. Hermione saw Harry drop his gaze from the fire and tilt his head slightly to one side, as if listening in on a conversation, angering her even more.

She felt someone sit down next to her and a moment later Ron wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder. She twisted around and threw her arms around his neck, burying her head into his shoulder and letting the tears flow as he smoothed her hair down slowly. Hermione watched Harry through her tears as Ron shushed her, he was still listening to them.

After what seemed like an eternity, but to Ron's hawk-like clock-watching was only another minute and a half Hermione subsided slowly and Harry looked further around. Eventually he was watching them over his shoulder and he turned around, staring at them both.

Hermione had seen some of the worst parts of Harry's life, she seen him after fights, duels, hospital wings, arguments, revelations and she'd seen the effects, but she had never seen that expression on his face. Never seen him so pale, his eyes so dull, his entire stature had seemed to have shrunk so that he looked like a young boy that he had been when they'd first met.

After a moments indecision she shrugged Ron off her and climbed to her feet, walking over to Harry and pulling him into a strong embrace. It took him a few seconds to react, hesitantly wrapping his arms around her too.

"She might still be ok," Hermione said in a cracked voice, the first time they'd spoken.

"Yeah, we don't know what's happened yet," added Ron quietly, laying an uncertain hand on his shoulder.

Harry merely nodded, his throat was too tight to speak now.

"She could be ok," repeated Hermione, almost to herself, squeezing Harry tightly.

Harry took in a shaky breath and closed his eyes, almost as if he were too weary to stay awake now.

"My scar hurts."

Hermione gave a squeak of alarm and scrunched up her eyes against the fresh tears.

It was a minute, Ron guessed from his view of the clock, until the fire in the grate glowed green and Sirius stepped out of it.

"Sirius!" exclaimed Ron as Harry ripped out of their embrace and turned to his godfather.

"Have you found her?" he croaked, his voice coming out harsh and broken.

"Found her?" asked Sirius in puzzlement, side stepping away from the fire as he took in the trio's tortured appearance, "who?"

"Catalina!" exclaimed Hermione almost hysterically as Harry rushed forwards to Sirius, searching his eyes desperately.

"Say you've found her," he pleaded hopelessly, "_please_…"

"She's here," said Sirius in confusion, motioning to the fire that had suddenly flared green.

Two seconds later, Catalina Firelight stumbled out.

A cry ripped out of Harry's throat as he rushed forward and pulled Catalina into a tight embrace. He could feel waves of relief and joy crashing down on him and was quite unaware that he was laughing deliriously. She was back, she was ok, how could this be…

"Oh my god," whispered Hermione in disbelief, hands over her mouth as the tears sprang to her eyes again, "oh my god…she's ok…"

Harry felt like he never wanted to let go, but reluctantly pulled away and regarded her joyously. Her robes were clean and there was no trace of the blood that had covered it the last time he'd seen her and she gave him a watery smile. He laughed in disbelief and smoothed the hair away from her face with both hands and he held her steady so he could survey her.

"You're alright," she managed to say in a voice that had obviously been worn out crying.

"What's going on?" demanded Sirius as Ron and Hermione rushed forward to Harry and Catalina and formed a giant group hug, all laughing and shouting to each other in amazement.

"You're alive…" Harry managed to choke out, "how…I…how?"

"Where've you _been_," asked Hermione faintly, "we thought you'd…you went…where've you _been_?"

"At the Ministry…" she told them, shaking her head in amazement too, "I thought you were caught up in the fighting…I can't believe you're all ok…"

"But the Death Eater-" began Ron before the fire leapt to life once again.

Dumbledore and Remus stepped out, their faces grim and sombre before they noticed the much tear stained and incredulous four teenagers stood before them. They stopped in their tracks.

"Catalina!" gasped Remus, looking to Dumbledore and then back to her quickly, "what are you doing here?"

"I just got back from the ministry," she said, looking as confused now as everyone else.

Everyone asked a question at the same time and no one could make heads or tail of the situation until Dumbledore clapped his hands and silence reigned.

"Take a seat everyone, this may take some explaining," he instructed, before turning to the fire and putting his head into the flames.

He held a short conversation with someone in the grate as everyone else seated themselves in the various sofas. Harry and Catalina were last to sit down, reluctant as they were to let go of each other and settled for sitting on the small sofa together. Harry laced his fingers into hers, not caring who saw. Everyone was looking confused yet happy, despite the days tragic events and Harry couldn't help but grin like a maniac - he thought he had lost everything, only to have his deepest wish granted to him, for her to be safe. He couldn't believe it, it was as simple as that.

"I thought you got caught up in the fighting," she whispered to him, eyes alight with tears of happiness now.

"I thought you were dead," he told her in a strangled voice, "I honestly did…I can't believe you're…what happened?"

"Sirius -" she began before Dumbledore stood up and silence fell.

"Now, the search party has been called off," said Dumbledore with a warm smile in the direction of Catalina, "events of this afternoon seem to be extremely confused."

"I'll say," said Sirius, with a bemused look on his face, "who's the search party for?"

"Catalina," said Remus in an exasperated voice, "we were told she'd been kidnapped."

"Who by?" said both Sirius and Catalina in unison, looking shocked.

"Us," said Ron and Hermione together and everyone was silent for a few moments.

"And why did you think that?" asked Sirius as Catalina looked to Harry in sudden understanding for their odd reunion with her.

"Because, we thought someone was in a Sirius disguise at the cemetery who took her during the attack," said Hermione, looking wild and dishevelled with a tear stained face and bushy hair, "we thought it was a distraction…"

"Why would you think that?" asked Sirius, looking at them all as if they were stupid, "I spoke to Harry and everything was fine - when the attack started I knew we'd have to get you out as quickly as possible so I took Catalina - I figured you guys would be looked after by Dumbledore."

"But you were supposed to be taking Remus to his new transformation place today," pointed out Ron.

"That's tomorrow," said Remus.

"Oh," said Ron, ears suddenly glowing red.

"But she was trying to escape from you when the attack started," said Hermione suddenly, remembering the way Catalina had struggled with Sirius and shrieked Harry's name.

"I was trying to get to you guys," said Catalina in a quiet voice, "I didn't want you to get hurt because of me…"

Everyone was silent for a few moments before Harry remembered something else, feeling he had to say it now and explain why he'd caused such a huge misunderstanding.

"But Sirius sent me for a portkey, and then he disappeared using one…I thought he was lying," he tried, looking over to Sirius questioningly.

"We have emergency portkeys, all Auror's do," he said, showing him a small bag tied to the belt of his robes, "direct flight to the Ministry of Magic, we're usually discouraged from using them for cost reasons - I thought it would be easier for Dumbledore to give you one."

Harry suddenly felt very stupid. It all made so much sense when you thought about it rationally. But that was his problem, it had always been his problem, he was a very irrational person.

"Well, now that is sorted out," said Dumbledore, summoning a tray of tea and biscuits, "we must discuss the attack on the funeral."

"The first or the second one?" asked Catalina with a dry laugh, before remembering her company and flushing with embarrassment.

"Indeed. The first seems to be some kind of publicity stunt on behalf of Ruby Goldwing. However she has overstepped the line this time, as Miss Granger so concisely pointed out, and I shall be talking to the Editor in Chief of the Prophet quite soon, I assure you."

Harry gave a sigh of relief, he wondered what a life without her articles would be like. He looked over to Hermione who was grinning with pride, if not a little sheepishly, he wondered what she'd said so 'concisely' to the journalist to create such a fuss.

"The second attack," began Dumbledore heavily, and they all became more serious, "cannot unfortunately be dismissed as lightly. It was only a small group, six masked Death Eaters. Nobody was seriously injured which is a blessing, yet they all evaded capture which has come as a blow."

"And they took her…the body?" asked Catalina querulously.

Dumbledore surveyed her steadily for a few seconds before nodding heavily, "Yes, I am afraid so. But as for what reason, I cannot say."

Catalina looked across to Harry and he gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

"We believe they were acting under the orders of Charles Firelight," said Dumbledore gently, as if trying not to further upset her.

"Yes, I expect so," she said in a distant voice.

"Voldemort's angry about it," said Harry, Ron and Hermione flinching at the name and the news.

"Really?" asked Dumbledore, watching Harry with a very calculating expression indeed, "For how long?"

"Since we got here," he replied, self-consciously shifting his fringe slightly, aware of everyone lingering gaze on his scar.

"That is interesting," said Remus quietly, almost to himself and Dumbledore shared a look with him that Harry found hard to interpret.

"Well, as distressing as this news is," Dumbledore told everyone suddenly, getting to his feet now, "we can take heart in the fact they were not actively attempting to reach Harry."

Everyone's eyes swivelled towards him again and he stared resolutely at the floor. Catalina squeezed his hand.

"Or indeed anyone else," he added, "now, I must see to the Order members and then the Ministry. Remus, Sirius, you had best come with me - you need to file a report for your actions Sirius and we could use your specialist knowledge at the scene Remus."

"Right," said Sirius in surprise, but getting to his feet quickly.

Everyone else got to their feet as well and Catalina stepped towards Sirius.

"Thank you for your kind words earlier," she said in an almost timid voice, "and for getting me to safety."

"All in a days work," said Sirius with a half grin, resting a hand on her shoulder, "and I meant what I said."

She nodded silently, sliding from under his hand slowly though and placing herself next to Harry.

"I've sent for the house elves to bring you some dinner, I will send for you later this evening for an update on developments. Try not to tell anybody about this," said Dumbledore before stepping through the flames in a whirl of robes.

Remus walked through next and then Sirius. He paused with his foot in the flame and looked back to them, gave a slight chuckle and stepped through. Silence descended upon the room as suddenly as the noise that had filled it only ten minutes ago when Catalina had come back from the dead.

It was like being given a new lease of life. Like being marooned on a desert island to find it was paradise, like looking in your wallet for £10 and finding the winning lottery ticket, like the worst moment of your life becoming the best. Like the person you loved coming back from the dead.

Harry couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe they'd jumped to such conclusions, that he could feel so elated when only hours ago he was tormented with grief beyond measure. The four had eaten a wonderful feast in Dumbledore's office, laughing and joking with the wild abandon of hysterical happiness that overcomes people rarely. They didn't speak about the funeral, the protestors, the Death Eaters, the missing body, the grief - they just talked about the future, made fun of each other, dissected both Hermione and Ron's and Harry and Catalina's relationships.

Later that evening Dumbledore filled them in on the days news. They hadn't found any of the Death Eaters, everyone concerned in the duels would recover, all the mourners got away safely and Ruby Goldwing had been fired. This met a succession of cheers, even the thought of this Death Eater attack on Britain was the first in two months, wasn't enough to cloud their happiness.

Harry absent-mindedly picked a piece of mortar off the crenallation of the astronomy tower, rubbing it between his fingers and dropping it over the edge and watching it float away on the wind. He had always associated the Astronomy Tower with bad memories; getting caught after smuggling out Norbert, late night lessons, his arguments with Catalina here last year, Catalina getting captured, Catalina trying to jump…

It had been a very unlucky place for them, but still he sought the peace and solace that being so close to the stars gave him. He had so much to think about he wouldn't be able to sleep for a million galleons. His scar was still burning and as he was vaguely wondering what this meant, he thought about Catalina's disappearance. He didn't realise how affected he could be by Catalina until that moment. Sure he knew he loved her and would do anything for her, but he didn't fully comprehend what being in love with someone entailed until then.

He couldn't put into words how he felt at the moment of return, or the lingering feeling it had left him with. In a strange way it almost hurt, there was too much feeling, too much for him to hold onto himself, he needed to share it, express it somehow.

There was a sudden stab of pain in his forehead and he clapped his hand over his scar, gritting his teeth slightly.

"What's got you so worked up tonight?" asked Harry, rubbing it irritably - why was he spoiling his one moment of peace and quiet?

"Are you angry because I'm happy?" he muttered after a while.

He tried to ignore it, staring off towards the mountains, mesmerised by the throbbing sensation. He found it was almost in time to his heartbeat and if he concentrated on it for long enough, his whole body seemed to be moving to this strange double-beat.

He was so content listening to this that he didn't hear the footsteps coming up the stairway, or the person moving until the door shut behind them.

"Couldn't sleep either?"

He gave an incredulous laugh and looked over his shoulders.

"No," he replied, before nodding towards her, "nice pyjamas."

Hermione grinned in embarrassment, self-consciously smoothing down her baggy tee-shirt and shorts which were visible underneath her school robe.

"What are you doing up here?" he asked her looking slightly puzzled.

"I just wanted to see if you were ok," she told him, looking slightly worried at his reaction, "you know, about everything that happened today…"

He looked back out across the scenery, "I'm fine," he said stoically, "how's Catalina?"

"Crashed out," she said, obviously not buying his brush off one bit, "it's been a long day…"

"Yeah," scoffed Harry, thinking over everything that he'd seen and heard and felt that day - it had lasted a lifetime, "longer than a History of Magic lesson."

She gave a slight laugh and he was aware she was standing right behind him, "Come and sit down."

He shifted over so that she could squeeze in next to him and patted the empty space. After a moment's indecision she climbed up and dangled their legs over the edge and Harry gave her a brief smile before turning to look at the view again. They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes before she spoke.

"It was so bad today, in Dumbledore's office," she said, obvious pain still in her voice.

"Yeah," he said heavily, not giving anything away.

This seemed to annoy her slightly and she shifted around so she could see him better.

"Can I ask you something Harry?" she said worriedly, twisting her hands slightly in her lap.

"Sure," he shrugged.

"What were you feeling, in Dumbledore's office…" she began, sounding slightly anxious when he looked away, "I mean, you were just standing there…all I wanted was for you to say something, shout or cry or rage but you didn't…"

Harry watched the mountains unseeingly as he replayed those agonising five minutes in the headmasters that his life had crumbled down around him.

"I just wanted to know what you were feeling…" finished Hermione lamely, knowing he wasn't going to answer.

There was an incredibly long silence.

"I just never realised-"

He broke off, obviously embarrassed by what he was going to say and she looked at him with renewed curiosity.

"Realised what?" she prompted gently, knowing she was finally getting through to him.

He was silent for a long time and she began to think he wasn't going to reply at all when he spoke up.

"That it would hurt so much."

"What would?" she asked slightly worriedly, thinking back to his scar pains.

Again he was silent for a long time, and when he answered he addressed the mountain range off to one side.

"Losing her."

"Oh," she said sadly nodding with understanding. "You didn't lose her."

"I thought I did," he replied, his voice sounded slightly constricted, "and you know what the worst thing was?"

"What?"

"You and Ron being there with me, together," he stated in a heavy voice, "I was standing there in Dumbledore's office and I knew I was going to be alone forever, but you two weren't. You still had each other, You still had your parents, you still have a future…and I'd lost all that - and I-I hated you for having it. What kind of a friend does that make me? That I would wish them you that pain to make me feel better?"

"Oh Harry," she said quietly, picking up his hand, "it's just human nature. Sure you'd be jealous of what we'd got because it's what you want most of all but just can't have. Everyone gets jealous. But you know deep down that if it were possible for those things to happen to us you'd do everything in the world to stop it from happening."

He nodded heavily and Hermione secretly marvelled that Harry had managed to speak for so long on a subject they'd never broached before. Although they were best friends her and Harry never really talked about their feelings, it was just a given that they loved each other and would do anything for each other, they didn't need to voice it out loud.

"But it all turned out alright in the end," she continued, watching the stars with a faraway expression on her face, "Catalina was safe and sound all that time…"

"Yeah, we survived to see another day," joked Harry in a black comedy moment.

"That's not funny," she said with a frown and Harry gave a shrug, but didn't take it back.

Hermione saw a shooting star pass overhead and pointed it out to Harry and they spent the next few minutes looking out for more. Harry fancied he could see a lot more than Hermione but some began to realise they were just dots of light that flashed in front of his eyes during particularly violent throbs of his scar. He didn't know whether he should be worried about this or not, probably he thought with a sigh.

"You know, I think this is the first time we've ever really sat down and talked for a long time," said Hermione, giving him an encouraging smile, "it's not so hard is it?"

"No I guess not," he laughed.

"I guess we've been spending a long time with Ron and Catalina on our own…" she said, with a slightly sad smile, as if she'd just noticed this loss.

"If it's all the same to you I don't really have any particular desire to see you and Ron on your own," he said with a smirk as she blushed and slapped his arm.

"Well at least I'm proactive," she said in mock-snobbishness, "unlike _some _people I could mention."

"Proactive," said Harry with a bemused smile, "is that what you crazy kids are calling it? In my day it was called sucking face."

"Harry!" yelped Hermione, looking scandalised, "I don't _suck face_. That is so _crude_!"

Harry dissolved into a fit of laughter and soon Hermione had no choice but to join in. When they had finally stopped, Hermione wiped the tears away and tried to look as composed as possible.

"That's a nice change," she said contentedly, "there's too much doom and gloom about at the moment."

"Well if the pasts anything to go on there'll be more to come," said Harry, coming down from his high with a bump as his scar stabbed in pain again.

"Let's not talk about the past," she said, noticing but not saying anything about it, "we'll talk about the future instead, how about that?"

"That's an even more tricky subject," said Harry with a fake laugh, feeling slightly queasy at the thought.

He still hadn't told Hermione or the others about the Prophecy. He didn't think he ever could. Maybe it was because he couldn't take their reactions - Ron would shocked and then dismiss it awkwardly, Hermione would get upset then rush to the library for answers and Catalina…well, who knew what she'd do if she found out.

Deep down Harry seriously doubted he would eventually be able to defeat Voldemort, so why would the others think he could? He couldn't stand looking into their eyes and seeing what his death would mean to all of them, not only for their own grief, but for what it would mean for the rest of wizard kind. Talking about the future was not one of his favourite pastimes as it looked like his days were seriously numbered. In short he didn't really think he had one, so what was the point in planning?

"Short term at least," she said, as if sensing his troubled thoughts, "what are your plans?"

"Pass my NEWTS and graduate I guess," he shrugged.

"Then what?" she prompted him, laughing at his thoughtful expression, "don't bust a brain cell or anything, there must be something you'd like to do?"

Survive, thought Harry grimly. Be left alone. For himself and his friends to be safe.

"I thought about playing Quidditch," he said finally, "you know, professionally."

"Well do that then," she said simply, "we could write off to some of those summer training schools and you could get a place in the under 21's or something. When the war ends you could just do that."

_If_ the war ends for me, he thought sadly.

"Yeah maybe," he said in a non-committal way, "what about you, you got any plans?"

She let leaned back against the crenallation, looking thoughtful "I'm not quite sure yet, maybe something in the Ministry - when the wars over they'll need a lot of help rebuilding everything."

"You don't want to work for the ministry," said Harry, who had a healthy mistrust of authority figures now, "I know you. What would be your dream _dream _job?"

"I like to work with S.P.E.W," she said, almost shyly, "I really think I could make a difference…"

"Well, why don't you do that?" asked Harry simply, ignoring the fact he thought it was a foolish job and a waste of her talents, "set up S.P.E.W inside the Ministry…get people involved?"

"Yeah maybe," she said, repeating his self-same non-committal tone.

It seemed they both didn't really believe that a time would come where they would need to worry about things such as jobs. It was a sobering thought, but they didn't put it into words, they both knew they'd probably accepted their destiny.

"I'm sure something will come along," she said in a hopeful tone that he wasn't quite sure was real, "but in the meantime I think we should try and live life to the full, have some fun…travel, like Catalina does, I always liked the thought of that. Her whole life spent in all those places - imagine what you'd learn?"

"Not exactly a stable way to grow up though is it?" asked Harry, thinking it hadn't done Catalina much good, being in all those different schools and country's.

"Maybe not for her," conceded Hermione, thoughts travelling back to the funeral that morning and the missing body, "but now we're older…I don't know, there's so many places I want to go, things I want to see before…in my life."

Harry sensed her slip, she was almost going to say 'before I die'. Harry had never wondered what Hermione thought her role in the war would take her.

"Where do you want to go?" he asked her curiously.

"I'd love to go to China," she said at once, and Harry could tell this was a long held desire, "I used to watch all those programmes on tv and just _wish_ I was there - the culture, the heritage and history…"

"You could go with Catalina," Harry said with a slight laugh, "she told me once that of all the places she'd been, it felt like home there. I guess she'll live there when she leaves Hogwarts…"

Hermione could hear the worry in his voice and wondered if he'd go with her, but decided to save that conversation for another day.

"How about you Harry," she asked carefully, "If you could go anywhere or do anything, what would it be?"

Harry gave this due thought and consideration for such a long time that Hermione began to snigger at him. He shoved her playfully and tried to get her to shut up.

"I don't know really…somewhere nice and hot maybe," he said finally.

Hermione tried to hide her laugh behind her hand but was quite unsuccessful, "Wow, original…Can't you think of a single _place _you want to go to?"

"I did a project in school once on the River Nile," he said suddenly, "I thought it would be nice to sail down it. Except for the crocodiles anyway. And the hippos…"

"Yeah, I always was fascinated by Egypt - Ron loved it. How about we do that then, all of us," she said with certainty, "when all this is over, we'll sail down the Nile together - avoiding the crocodiles and hippos of course."

"It's a deal," he said with a smile, knowing deep down it would never happen.

Hermione nodded happily and was off in her own thoughts about foreign places when Harry slapped a hand to his forehead, a familiar reflex action she'd seen him do many time before.

"Is it still hurting?" she asked anxiously, their light-hearted conversation disappearing into thin air.

"Yeah," he said, rubbing it a little viciously but moving his hand away, "perhaps we ought to get off this high tower."

He tried to make it sound like a joke, but Hermione didn't want to think about Harry falling off from his scar pains and got down hastily. He almost looked unsteady on his feet but recovered quickly and frowning in confusion.

"It's gone…" he said almost happily, "excellent."

"Really?" she asked, "that's a little sudden…"

"Hey, who's complaining? Maybe I'll get a decent nights sleep," he laughed.

"Haven't you been sleeping well recently?" she asked him, shrewdly sensing his slip.

"I've been sleeping fine," he said with a smile.

She could tell he was lying.

"Ron hasn't said you've been sleeping badly," pressed Hermione, worried by this new revelation.

"Have you got him babysitting me?" he asked, more annoyed by this than he felt he should have been.

"Keeping an eye out more like," she told him calmly as he picked up his invisibility cloak.

"Oh come on Hermione," said Harry peevishly, "if there was anything really wrong don't you think I'd tell someone?"

"No I don't think you would," she shot back, "not me and Ron anyway."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, forgetting his annoyance instantly at her almost upset tone.

"Nothing," she breathed, "I just think you ought to tell us more often even if it's not serious - we are here for you, you know, for anything."

"I know that," he said blankly, staring at her in wonder, "I will…in future."

"Good," she said with a smile, "anyway, Ron's probably waiting for us and we better get back before you get in trouble for being out of bed."

"Implying you wouldn't," teased Harry, pulling the cloak around him.

"I'm a prefect remember," she said, before watching him disappear, "but how about once more for old times sake? It's more fun being out after dark this way."

Harry chuckled and pulled her under the cloak too. He had to stoop slightly for it to properly cover her now and they made their way slowly down the towers stairs.

"I can't believe the three of us used to get under this," she said as they made there was down the second floor corridor.

"I know," he said, thinking fondly back to their incredibly dangerous yet exciting midnight adventures they'd had under the cloak.

"Bend down a bit Harry our feet are showing," she cautioned him sternly, "you're getting too tall for this now."

The only sound to be heard in the large chamber was the steady drumming of sharp nails on the wooden arm of the throne.

_Tap tap tap._

The collected semi-circle of black robed figures were staring impassively ahead, trying not to look at the six people in the centre of the room, the focus of the drummers displeasure.

_Tap tap tap._

They had just filed in and were now awaiting punishment for their actions, but they were awaiting one more person.

Catalina Stared at the canopy of her bed, unable to empty her mind enough to fall into sleep. She couldn't stop thinking about the funeral, Dr Rahn's secret, her father turning up, the attack, the house…It seemed like enough had happened in that one day to occupy her mind with new questions and fears for the next five years.

She remembered the look on Harry's face when she turned back up in Dumbledore's office and smiled to herself slightly, despite everything that had happened, she still felt a slight happy lurch of the stomach when she thought about him.

She felt a sudden twinge of a headache develop and she gave an irritated sigh – typical, not only did she have to contend with all the bad stuff, now she had a headache on top of it, and _insomnia_.

It occurred to Harry in a sudden flash of understanding that he was dreaming, but he was unable to wake himself up. Instead, he watched in mounting panic as the assembled Death Eaters gradually filed out of the room, leaving the six that were still sprawled across the floor to crawl out themselves.

When the last person had gone, the door was pulled shut and the noise reverberated around the room. Voldemort rose from his throne and stared down malevolently at Firelight with his blazing red eyes. He held Voldemort's stare, straight backed, chin thrust forward with the kind of pride Harry had begun to associate with the man - though he'd seen the same stance on Catalina when they argued.

"Are you also above showing the proper respect?" Voldemort finally asked in a silky voice, "or is that to above your contempt as well as following orders?"

"No my Lord," Firelight replied graciously, voice equally as smooth as the creatures in front of him.

"Then bow," he said, lip curling with displeasure.

Firelight bent low in a sweeping bow and Harry could see the displeasure in his eyes at it - Voldemort must have too.

"Lower," he continued, looking down from the pedestal with a terrifying smile.

Firelight did as he commanded baring the back of his neck to Voldemort, who raised his wand and brought it down. The prone figure was pushed to the floor and Harry understood what he had done, that feeling of immense pressure on your spine, as if a giant invisible hand was forcing you down - Voldemort had once forced him to do that. It seemed like such a long time ago now...

"You think that because of your heritage and your powers, you are somehow better than me?" he said finally, standing over Firelight, who was now prostrate on the ground, forehead touching the cold flagstone floor.

"No my Lord," came the reply.

"You think that you are above my wrath because of your skills?" he continued, pacing from side to side.

"No my Lord," Firelight repeated.

"That you are indispensable because you channel your power a different way to me?" demanded Voldemort harshly, pacing faster now.

"No my Lord."

Firelights inability to give him a proper answer, or maybe just the mounting anger that was burning through both himself and Harry was evident in the creatures eyes and with a flick of the wand he pulled Firelight up until he was dangling in the air like a puppet. Red, snake-like eyes were brought within centimetres of the coal black ones of Firelight, who didn't flinch.

"Your daughter is alive on my grace," he told him furiously, "grace which can quickly turn to _displeasure_ when my _servants _take it into their minds to overthrow me."

"I did not attempt to overthrow you my Lord," replied Firelight calmly, though Harry could feel his mounting panic almost radiating from his limp form, "I merely saw an opportunity and decided to take it-"

"I had already decided that action would not be taken on this day!" screamed Voldemort suddenly, destroying Firelights façade of calm control.

"I know my Lord, but-" began Firelight hastily.

"Do not question me Charles," came the deadly whisper, "_Crucio_."

The pain hit Harry with the force of a million hot knives, carving their way under his skin until he could do nothing but scream for it to stop, for the torture and pain to end. He forgot who he was, where he was, only being able to focus on the pain, the horrible, torturous pain…

And suddenly it did. He felt like he was kneeling down on the floor, gasping for air in blessed relief that it was over, even though he was nothing more than a presence in the room. Instead he looked down of Catalina's father, who was doing just that.

"I have always served you, my Lord."

Harry felt, in a disembodied sort of way, his own mouth saying these words, even though he was looking down at Firelight, who managed to choke them out as he pulled himself to his feet.

"You serve yourself Charles," said Voldemort, lip curling in cruel amusement, "but I'm going to have to break you of this habit, in any way I can…"

He twirled his wand through his spider like fingers, before pointing it at the man's heart.

"In any way I can…"

"Well I'm not coming in," Hermione's whisper came from the spiral staircase to the boy's dorm, "it's against the rules and you know it!"

"You're a prefect," pointed out Ron as they approached the door.

"I don't care," stated her voice with a humph, "it's not right - just go and get it and bring it out to me."

"_Fine_," came his sigh as he pushed open the door quietly and tiptoed in.

He walked over to his trunk, thoughts so full of Hermione's bickering tones that he didn't hear the noise for a few moments. However as he bent over his bed he felt a sudden chill chase down his spine and he jerked upright, alarmed and alert. Ears suddenly homing in on the familiar sound of Harry tossing and turning, mumbling in his sleep.

Feeling the familiar icy dread, he hurried over to Harry's bed a ripped open the hangings to see Harry sprawled out, tangled up in the sheets which he was kicking at already.

"Hermione!" hissed Ron, realising Harry was in deep again, "get in here!"

"Ron, I _told_ you-" floated her voice up the stairwell before he interrupted.

"It's Harry!"

Hermione was in the room like a shot, peering into Harry's four poster bed looking stricken, "Oh no, I knew this would happen! Wake him up!"

"Harry?" whispered Ron, shaking his best friends shoulder firmly, "Mate? Come on, wake up…"

"He's drowning in sweat," observed Hermione in a quaking voice as she reached forward too, "Harry, wake up now…Harry?"

It didn't work and Harry continued to mumble. Before suddenly giving a huge gasp and giving what looked like a convulsion, back arching as he screwed his face up in pain.

"Ron," whimpered Hermione, tugging on Ron's sleeve in panic, "do something!"

Ron looked around desperately, spotting the pitcher of water on his bedside table and making a lurch for it. He held it above Harry, hesitating momentarily before dumping the entire contents over his head.

Nothing happened.

Ron looked across to Hermione in panic, who suddenly clamped a hand over her forehead and gave a yelp of pain.

"Hermione?" cried Ron in bewilderment, as she lowered her hand and saw it glistening in the moon light with something crimson in colour.

"My heads cut," gasped Hermione, tears pricking at her eyes, "Ron! My heads cut!"

Ron gaped in shock, unable to say anything for a few short moments as he stared at the cut across his girlfriend's hairline, which was freely bleeding down the one side of her face. He moved towards her to comfort her in someway before a sudden sound made them both turn and stare at Harry.

"That hurts doesn't it?"

The voice that came out of Harry's lips was like nothing they'd ever heard him sound before, in was a low, cruel hiss that issued from the lips of the slack, sallow face, before it suddenly contorted with pain again.

Ron gaped at his best friend.

"What the…" he began.

"It's gone…" whispered Hermione suddenly, wiping her forehead suddenly and drawing back a clean hand, "Ron…the blood gone, the cuts gone! What's going on! I did just…didn't it?"

"Yes," replied Ron hoarsely, dodging backwards as Harry suddenly flailed an arm out.

"What's going on Ron?" asked Hermione, working very hard to keep her voice the right side of hysterical as they both backed away slightly.

"I - I don't know, he's never…" he tried in bewilderment, before they both jumped as Harry made a deep throated cry of pain.

Harry arched his back once again, his fingers curling around the sheets until his knuckled went white.

"Get Catalina," he said suddenly, "I'll just…just try and wake him up some more…"

"Are you sure? He's not safe," began Hermione, wringing her hands in panic, "maybe we should get a teacher…"

"No!" shouted Ron above another gasp of pain from Harry, "she's closer…she can help him, I know she can. Go on!"

Without another word Hermione stumbled backwards across the room and disappeared out of the door. Ron turned back to his friend and gulped, pulling out his wand and casting a soundproof charm around them and then the other beds, before edging forward.

"Harry, mate," he tried weakly, shaking Harry sweat-soaked shoulder, "wake up now…I know you don't want to feel this…come on…"

Neville slid open the door to greenhouse three and stepped in, breathing deeply the aroma of wet earth and manure mixed with the pungent fragrances of the plants around him. He tried to see how many he could identify by smell alone.

"Come on Neville," came a voice from next to him, "we have to choose our favourite flavour before the meeting can start."

He nodded solemnly, that was true.

"Wait for me Ginny!" called Neville, running after the redhead, who had darted in front of him, lost within the plants.

He pushed back the vines and walked deeper and deeper into what had now become a deep forest teeming with life. He stopped for a few moments to admire the animals and colours around him before Ginny disappeared into the undergrowth further ahead. He tried to follow but every time he caught a glimpse of her it would be just as she was darting out of sight, her echoing laughter all he had to guide himself deeper into the tropics.

Then suddenly Neville felt different. It was almost as if an icy mist was invading the landscape, rolling towards him, not physically in the jungle, but in his mind. Later he would have described it as something pushing its way into his head, his dream.

Then the screaming started.

Ron tried to grit his teeth against the pain, clutching his hand close to his chest as his fingers one by one began to scream in agony.

"I can snap your fingers Charles," hissed Harry in another moment of slack faced calm, "as easily as I would snap a wand…"

As the horrible voice died away Ron felt another blinding pain in his third finger as he tried to hold in the cry of pain he was threatening to release, bewildered at what was happening.

"Come on mate," he managed to gasp weakly, "you don't want to be doing this, I know you don't."

Then, as suddenly as the pain had come, and as if Harry had indeed been listening, the pain vanished. There was a moment of absolute silence from Harry and Ron heard, in a detached sort of way, the other boys in the room stirring or muttering in their sleep. Then Harry gave another gasp.

"No…please…please don't, no," Harry began to mumble in his own voice, tight with emotion.

Ron was beginning to wonder whether he ought to send for Professor Dumbledore when he heard two pairs of feet banging their way up the stairs. Catalina burst in, slamming the door open and running across the room to Harry's bed, closely followed by Hermione. Ron could see how pale and worried she looked, even in the moonlight.

Without a word she pushed past Ron and reached out to Harry, grabbing his wildly flailing arms and trying to pin them down.

"Catalina, I don't think you should get close to him," Hermione began in an anxious voice, "he's hurting us with his powers…"

If Catalina heard Hermione, she didn't acknowledge her, instead began to talk to him in a low, soothing whisper in a language Hermione couldn't put her finger on. It hardly made any difference that she could see, Harry was still writhing around in pain and gave another deep throated noise that Ron was sure was trying to become a scream.

"I better go and get…Dumbledore," he said, backing away slowly, but transfixed by the sight in front of him.

"No!" cried Catalina, "it's ok, don't worry, it's fine."

"What part of this is fine Catalina?" he demanded angrily, gesturing to Harry.

"I can sort this out, it's ok, I'll explain later…" she said quickly, "but don't get the teachers."

Hermione and Ron shared an uneasy look, both obviously battling with themselves not to run from that room that very moment. However, they were spared the moral dilemma when Catalina suddenly climbed up onto the bed towards Harry.

"Catalina!" hissed Ron anxiously, "get away from him!"

"Get down now!" cried Hermione as they both rushed towards Harry's bed, "he might hurt you!"

"He won't hurt me," she told them firmly, before switching back into the foreign tongue she was using before.

She crawled towards him, protecting herself from his flailing limbs as she straddled over him, kneeling above his stomach, talking to him softly.

"Catalina," tried Hermione weakly, "what are you doing…?"

She didn't reply, merely bent down and began to smooth his sweaty fringe away from his face, unbeknown to Hermione and Ron she checked his scar, it was red hot and looked raw again. She continued to stroke his cheek, bent down close to him so that her hair shielded their faces from view.

Harry gave a violent start and hid mouth opened in the 'o' of a silent scream as whatever was causing the pain wracked through his body. She placed a hand on his chest and concentrated, finding that spot where Harry's emotions used to reside and opened it up. The dull ache she had originally felt began to build, sharpening and defining the pain until she could feel herself begin to shake.

She tried to keep a clear head as he began to relax slightly, focussing on drawing the pain out of him. She leaned her forehead against his for support as the black began to wash in front of her eyes. Then suddenly there was illumination in the dark.

A pair of red, snake-like eyes stared back at her for one brief flickering moment. She heard the faintest sounds of a voice before she found herself being forcefully pushed out of the connection. She jerked her head away from his in confusion - had that been him or You-Know-Who? Looking down she saw Harry's lips moving.

"Potter…"

The hiss ended and she watched in horror as a dark trail began to trace it's way down his cheek, crimson blood seeping out. It looked as if an invisible person was running a sharp nailed finger down his cheek and she shuddered at the thought. She placed her hand over the deep cut and healed it instantly, before looking over to Hermione and Ron, who were huddled together at the foot of the bed. They hadn't looked like they'd heard him speak.

"Maybe you should just…stand back a bit?" Catalina managed to say, finding her voice shaking slightly from the pain of before.

Hermione nodded hastily and pulled Ron across the room, who was staring fixedly at Harry's bed, before dragging his gaze to his fingers, which he began to flex experimentally. She turned back to Harry, since the cut he'd been silent, but the pain hadn't stopped, he just wasn't shouting anymore.

"Harry, wake up," she whispered to him.

He didn't respond still and she cast a desperate look around to the others before closing her eyes and gathering her strength. She placed the palm of her hand on his chest so that the scar rested across his heart and concentrated on Harry.

The familiar building of pain started and she used her mind to start mentally shaking him awake. She could feel him beginning to come around when she felt a sudden pressure on her arm, Harry was gripping her tightly.

Then everything suddenly went black. She could hear voices, screaming and the sound of pain. Harry's voice was shouting, and she could _hear _magic, curses being thrown, someone moving. Then Voldemort spoke.

"It seems you've got an audience Charles."

Catalina's heart hammered madly - Harry was dreaming about her father?

"Let's show Potter what I'll be doing to him when I catch up with him."

The pain was too unbearable. Harry could feel too much, Voldemort's presence, Charles' pain, then someone new…the pain was further away now, the present came rushing back…

He awoke as a cry of pain tore from his throat, clawing his way back into consciousness with his entire body burning.

He arched his back against it and raised a shaking hand to his face, pressing the palm of his hand against his scar and as he gritted him teeth. He willed it to stop, for his heart to stop beating so madly, for his body to stop shaking and aching.

He slowly became aware he wasn't alone and he opened his eyes slowly, bracing himself for the dread of who, or what it was. He could make out only the blurry outline of a person leant over him, and he tried to focus desperately, breathing deeply.

"Harry?" asked the voice. It was shaking.

He closed his eyes against the voice he recognised and dropped his head back against the pillows, trying to get back his breath and figure out what had happened. He could remember everything he saw so vividly he thought to himself as a wave of nausea overtook him.

"Can you hear me?" she asked again from right above him.

He swallowed through his tight throat and gave a slight nod, before pressing his hand tighter to his forehead, it burned too much. He felt someone lean over him and when he opened his eyes he saw Catalina's pale face looking at him - there were tears in her eyes. She gently pulled his hand away from his scar and put her own on it.

After a few moments he felt the pain beginning to recede and he began to un-tense his muscles, becoming more conscious and noticing the sounds in the room. Hermione's voice entered his head first, whispering quickly, the Ron's apparent responses.

He closed his eyes wearily, begging for peaceful unconsciousness.

Unbeknown to the others and safe inside his own sound proofed bed, Neville sat bolt up right. He had emerged from his nightmare feeling sick, pressing his hand to his forehead and the burning scar.

It took him a few moments to realise he didn't have a scar and he gently lay back on his bed and stared at the canopy, shaking.

Hermione was racking her mind, sorting through the catalogue of things she discovered when she'd investigated Harry's scar - both her own theories and one's she'd gleamed off the professors, but still couldn't understand what was happening. It was her way of blocking out the horrible sight.

She wondered in a detached kind of way what Catalina thought she was doing. The way she'd crawled up onto the bed, straddling over him and trying to wake him up - why did she do that, it obviously hurt her. Then the way that a few moments before he'd woken up she'd broken away and hastily scrambled backwards away from him, look of horror on her face - what had she felt or seen?

Now she was fussing over him again, obviously distressed.

Hermione walked closer to see Harry attempting to get up. At first Catalina tried to prevent him but something must have stopped her because she suddenly backed off and Harry crawled out of bed. He got to his feet, legs shaking terribly before he lurched toward the door, stumbling right past her and Ron, apparently not seeing them.

"Go with him Ron," Hermione whispered to him.

Ron quickly followed Harry out of the room and Hermione cautiously walked up to Harry's bed, on which Catalina was still knelt, face burrowed in the quilt. She sat down next to her and regarded her worriedly.

"Are you ok Catalina?" she asked quietly.

"Yes," came the muffled answer.

"What…" she began, before giving a bewildered shake of the head, "what _happened_?"

"He had a nightmare," Catalina told her, straightening up and running a shaking hand across her eyes, "a bad one…"

"About what?"

"How should I know?" she said, fighting hard to keep the tears from overtaking her, hand clutched to her heart.

Hermione knew she was lying. She crept up onto the bed and sat down next to Catalina, and wrapped a comforting arm around her. Catalina shrugged it away, angrily brushing away her tears.

"It's not me who had the dream!" she burst out, "save it for Harry!"

"Catalina," began Hermione in a shocked voice, "What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with Harry you mean!" she continued, in an uncharacteristically high pitched voice, "when Magus's are supposed to start developing their powers, around 16 to 18, they can have dreams when they manifest what they think they're seeing! It's never this bad - I spent a few weeks in a room with strange animals or turning peoples hair pink…I never _hurt _people…"

"But Harry had a nightmare…" said Hermione gently, taking all this new information in her stride, "One of _his _nightmares-"

"I don't care it's not fair!" she yelled, her voice ringing around the quiet, thankfully soundproofed, dorm, "Harry doesn't deserve this! We've had a horrible, _horrible _day and then this evening we were so happy and I'd forgotten everything because he was there and we were ok…"

She broke off with a sob and Hermione dared to put her arm around her best friend again, who didn't shrug it off this time. When she continued to rant it was done in a voice choked full of emotion that Hermione could hardly understand what she was saying.

"And it hurts so much - how can he stand the pain? I couldn't _breathe_ and I-"

"So you did connect with him," Hermione interrupted, "do you know what he saw - do we need to tell the Professors to send out Aurors? Who were the targets?"

"I didn't see anything," maintained Catalina, brushing away her tears now.

"Catalina," warned Hermione fiercely, "I know you're lying! What did you see? Who are you trying to protect here? Harry-"

Catalina looked visibly affronted, as if she just been slapped and had Ron not reappeared in the room supporting Harry at the shoulders at that precise moment serious fireworks were about to go off. As it was they merely stared at each other in silence for a long second before Hermione rushed over to help Ron with Harry, who wasn't using his legs too well. Catalina turned to his bed and whipped off all the old bedding, giving it a quick wash and dry between her hands before spreading it back out, frowning deeply at Hermione's words.

When she was finished she turned to see them all standing by the side of the bed and Catalina studied Harry intensely. His legs were shaking badly and his hair was wet, sticking up at every angle - he'd obviously just had a wash and wasn't focussing on anything due to his lack of glasses. His skin was a yellow waxen colour that made him look positively jaundiced in the candlelight.

He was placed on the edge of the bed and Hermione lifted his legs up and tucked him in. Catalina was worried that he hadn't even spoken yet, not to her anyway and that it was because of what she had heard in his head.

"We better let him sleep - he's exhausted," said Hermione finally after they stared at him for over a minute in silence.

"Let me just…say goodnight," asked Catalina in a faraway voice moving towards the side of the bed.

"I'll wait for you downstairs," said Hermione in a tight voice.

She turned on her heel and marched out, closely followed by Ron and Catalina surreptitiously looked around the dorm. All of the boys were deeply asleep and safely out of earshot due to the soundproofing charms. She crept up to the bed and sat on the side, reaching out and brushing away his wet fringe from his face in what she hoped was a soothing manner.

"Harry?" she whispered, "are you awake?"

He didn't respond.

"Do you want to talk to me?" she tried again.

He gave a low hum and she wasn't sure if this meant yes or no, she thought she'd try again.

"Does it still hurt Harry?" she asked him quietly.

"Hmm," he said, still not opening his eyes, "tired…"

"I'll leave you to sleep then," she told him, trying to stop the tears in her eyes from falling, "can you just tell me…was the dream just about my father, or is there someone who needs help?"

He prised his eyes open and looked up at Catalina, even without his glasses he could see the tears.

"Just him," he mumbled, before turning over, effectively ending the conversation.

She stepped back uncertainly, silently cursing herself for letting him see she was upset - now he thought she was probably more worried about her father than him. She tried to say something that would be comforting and helpful, but couldn't find any words. She stood with her mouth stuttering for a few moments before turning and heading out of the dorm in silence. When she shut the door she leant against it and breathed a heavy sigh.

She looked down at her arm, flinching at the horrible yellow and purple bruise that had already developed there, highlighting each of the finger nail marks. She rested her other hand on it and when she pulled it away the skin was clear. She tried to clean her face up and arrange her expression before walking downstairs, Ron and Hermione was stood by the fire waiting for her.

"Is he ok?" asked Ron as soon as he heard her coming.

"He's asleep now," she told him, purposefully avoiding the question.

"I better go and keep an eye on him," said Ron, casting a furtive, anxious look at Hermione before leaving quickly.

Catalina watched him go with a glum feeling that it was because he sensed an argument was on the horizon. Sure enough when she looked over to Hermione she saw she was standing with her hands folded across her chest and a very determined look on her face.

She waited for her to begin.

"You put all our lives in danger tonight," she finally said, "_including _Harry's."

"I didn't Hermione, I kn-" Catalina began before Hermione cut in.

"You did and you know it!" she ranted, red in the face, "How did you know that you could wake him up? Why wouldn't you let us get a teacher?"

"Because I knew I'd be able to help him more than they could," she said feeling stung at this reprimand when she had indeed woken him up.

"How? Huh? How exactly did you _know _that?" countered Hermione, "Has this ever happened to you before? We know absolutely _nothing _about how these powers are affecting Harry so how can you say-"

"What do you mean _affecting_ him?" Catalina asked her angrily, "it's not like some _disease_ or something Hermione! I told you before, it's natural, it's just what happens to us!"

"You said you never hurt anybody!" pointed out Hermione equally as harshly, "so why did Harry?"

"You've already said it was because he was having a nightmare Hermione!" shouted Catalina, angrily gesturing to her friend, "You know he has nightmares so stop trying to make this my fault!"

"I'm not saying it's your fault," Hermione told her in slow, angry tones, "I'm just saying that there must be a reason why all of a sudden one of his dreams effects him like this - he's never usually in so much pain and he's usually able to keep conscious afterwards!"

"And you think that reasons me?" shouted Catalina incredulously, unable to believe Hermione was saying those things to her.

"Not necessarily," said Hermione, "I just know that you know a lot more than you're telling us, and I want to know why."

"Because it's none of your business!" shouted Catalina angrily.

Hermione looked visibly affronted, and stepped back, staring back at her with a mixture of shock and fury. Catalina knew she'd pushed Hermione too far. Then they both heard a third voice, which was also fighting the anger for calm.

"How can you say that Catalina?" asked Ron carefully, walking back into the room and standing next to Hermione, "He's our best friend and we've been through more together than you can possibly even imagine. So how dare you say that this doesn't concern us."

Catalina looked between the two faces, angry and confused at what to do next.

"I only meant that it's not even any of Harry's business what he's seeing, it's an accident," she stuttered worriedly.

"So you do know what he was dreaming about!" Hermione cried, leaping on her statement with a sudden ferocity.

"Fine, yes, I admit it! Ok?" she cried, waving her arms up in the air in defeat, "I know what he was dreaming about! Are you happy now?"

"You think that makes me happy?" asked Hermione in a dangerous voice and narrowing her eyes at her.

Catalina didn't say anything, staring stubbornly back at the two. Hermione looked livid and Ron's face was strangely impassive, though his eyes were blazing.

"So you know what he was dreaming about," began Hermione, "and you wouldn't let us find or tell a teacher…makes me wonder if you're trying to protect someone you saw."

Catalina visibly paled at this comment and stumbled backwards, too shocked and angry to speak. Hermione seemed to realise she'd said something a bit too harsh but didn't take it back.

"You think I'm _protecting_ Death Eaters?" whispered Catalina, feeling horrified that her best friend would say that to her, "you think…how could you think that of me?"

"I don't think that," said Hermione, looking slightly ashamed, "it came out wrong…I think you might be protecting one Death Eater in particular…"

Catalina blanched at her words.

"My _father_?" she whispered hoarsely, stumbling backwards until she hit the wall next to the stairs, "how could you think that…how?"

She couldn't hold it in anymore, the tears that had been building up behind her eyes began to roll down her cheeks. She sank to the floor and buried her head in her arms, sobbing at the thoughts and memories that Hermione's accusations had brought to mind. She felt like she couldn't breathe, like a huge weight was pushing on her chest and the pain and anger was drowning her. She was alone, she needed Harry here for her, she wasn't protecting her father…she was protecting Harry….

Suddenly she became aware that someone had wrapped their arm around her shoulder and her heart leapt - it must be Harry! She looked up to see Ron crouched down by her. She gave a choked sob, feeling a sudden, crushing and inexplicable loss.

"Harry was dreaming about You-Know-Who torturing Charles Firelight," he said in a slow voice.

Catalina felt ice flood her veins as Hermione gasped out loud.

"How…how do you know that?" asked Hermione in a distressed voice.

"Because when you went to get Catalina he was talking in his sleep. He was saying what You-Know-Who was saying…" Ron trailed off, as Catalina stopped crying as a realisation stole over her, "he must have been angry about what your father did today at the funeral…"

She shrugged off Ron's arm and hastily got to her feet, stumbling away from the pair. She felt confused and bewildered by her friends sudden display or hostility.

"You knew that…why didn't you just tell her!" she yelled at Ron, "why are you letting her say things like that if you know _why_!"

"I just thought that-" he began hesitantly.

"No!" she shouted, pointing an angry finger at him, "you just wanted to see what I'd do and say if Hermione pushed me far enough! You're just like the rest of them, always thinking I'm up to something devious, that I'm keeping secrets, that I'm doing this for me!"

"Well you're wrong! I love Harry and I would _never _do anything to hurt him! What good would it do to have more professors poking around him and making him relive seeing Voldemort torturing someone! You've got no idea what he saw, you've got no possible idea what it's like to see someone broken like that!"

Ron and Hermione were stood rooted to the spot, staring open-mouthed as Catalina shouted louder and louder until the tears were spilling down her cheeks again.

"And as to me not possibly being able to imagine what you've been through with him? You've never been there when it really mattered - you've never seen Harry tortured, you've never seen him duelling with Death Eaters for his life, you've never seen him face Voldemort with his own death in his eyes."

"So forgive me if I wanted him to have one night where for once he wouldn't have to relive it, when I could for him."

She turned on her heel and marched towards the portrait, tears streaming down her face unchecked.

"Where are you going?" asked Ron weakly as she was climbing through the hole.

"To tell Professor Dumbledore what happened."


End file.
